Communication
by Opalsmith
Summary: This story is the sequel to Connections and is set on the alternative E2 Enterprise. The crew of Enterprise have to come to terms with the fact they can't return to their own time and find a reason to go on. Trip/T'Pol
1. Chapter 1

**Communication**

******Rating: T**

******Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination  
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******Starting point: Season Three, E2 - The crew on the alternate Enterprise have to come to terms with the fact they can't return to their own time and find a reason to go on.  
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**********Beta: Thanks to my wonderful husband for reading this and his many suggestions/improvements. Any errors found in the story are as a result of my inability to leave well alone and are therefore completely my fault!**

**Author's Notes: ****Communication** **is the sequel of my story entitled Connections. I have included a brief summary of Connections to set the scene for this story. All Vulcan words sourced with thanks from the Vulcan Language Dictionary. **

**Warning – Please note that there will be a main character death in Communication however I will not be deviating from what was established as canon by the Season Three episode entitled E2.**

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**The story so far**:

The crew of _Enterprise _had discovered a small out of the way planet with primitive docking facilities. Therefore they were able to complete urgent repairs to the ship, whilst also exploring the planet. There was evidence of past habitation but all indications were that it had long been deserted making it a safe haven for the crew to rest and recover from the recent trauma of battle.

Phlox reported the loss of Trip and T'Pol's DNA samples to Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed and Archer decided to keep the matter a secret while Reed was tasked with making further discrete enquiries. Reed found evidence to implicate Ensign Masaro but he did not share this information as he knew he would have to explain how he had known what to look for. Reed was a member of a secret organization tasked with the protection of Earth at all costs. He had worked as spy for that organization while serving as an officer on the _Enterprise_. However to salve his conscience Reed made a full confession which he left among his personal documents to be opened just before the descendants of the crew began their mission to destroy the Xindi probe.

While on the planet investigating a mysterious metallic object Trip and T'Pol were able to accept that a Vulcan mate bond had formed between them and they had started to explore what this meant for their relationship. However unknown to them, deep beneath the surface of the planet an elderly being was watching them with a fascinated intensity via a hidden security system.

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**Chapter ****One**

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_Two weeks after Enterprise __had first been tethered to the space dock in orbit above the planet, her outer hull was patched up, most of the systems including the transporter were fully operational and the warp engines were being overhauled_

_And an ever lengthening list of urgently required supplies and equipment was being compiled..._

Crewman Willis had volunteered to work with Ensign Masaro in the port nacelle control room realigning the Warp field coils. He was not in the mood for company and knew the much maligned Ensign hated small talk. There wasn't even the need to liaise with the crew on the outer hull who were finishing work on the damaged nacelle housings. Their chatter was simply relayed through to Willis and Masaro to ensure they knew where the space-side teams were.

Crewman Matt Willis was a Starfleet man through and through. He was in his early forties, of slight build with graying black hair although physically he could more than hold his own with the younger crew. Promotion had never been his prime interest and his only ambition had been to be one of the best crewmen in engineering maintenance. He achieved his goal when he won a coveted place on the Warp Five program.

No matter how hard he worked Willis could not blot out his memories of the day _Enterprise_ had returned to earth after the unwarranted Xindi attack. They had found a world in shock wounded by a brutal scar and a terrible death toll amounting to millions of innocent human beings. Whenever he took his mind off the tabulations on the PADD he was working on, Willis imagined he saw his wife Marion's face reflected on the screen, her eyes consumed with fear. He remembered how tightly he had clung to his two beautiful daughters, Sophia and Alexis, that day. Although he had known they were safe, living far away from the massive fault line of destruction it was only when he could see and touch his family that he had been able to overcome his anxiety for their safety.

Marion had not wanted him to volunteer for the mission to the Expanse to search for the Xindi. She argued Captain Archer would not expect a family man to abandon his children to go on what could only be a suicide mission. However the thought that a rookie might be called to fill what was his rightful position and compromise their chances of success was an unbearable weight on his shoulders. In his heart Willis knew he could not wait at home if this was the only chance they had to stop the destruction of Earth.

Marion had tried everything to get him to stay. She even accused him of not loving his family enough, of putting Starfleet ahead of them. Although in the end she accepted that he had no other choice but to go. When he left his family behind he had known from the deep sadness in Marion's voice as she said goodbye that she did not expect to see him again.

Among the engineering crew Willis had had a special place in his heart for Crewman Taylor. In her he saw what he hoped for his daughters when they reached adulthood. He had been there when they found Taylor's charred remains in the corridor outside her quarters. One more tragic waste of life among the many but she'd meant so much to him. It had been almost unbearable when he had helped carry her to join the rest of the dead laid out in the Sick Bay. He had never recovered and it felt as though he was disconnected from those who still lived, as with each breath he envied the dead.

As Willis had become estranged from his friends, he found himself drawn to Ensign Masaro. They had had a very enlightening conversation the night before. Masaro pointed out that the Captain had failed them all when he allowed a Xindi to come on board _Enterprise_. The Xindi responsible for the probe that killed millions and who had designed the weapon of the Earth's planned annihilation had stood on the bridge side by side with their Captain.

Masaro asked all the right questions: What if Degra had intended to lead them into a trap? Had he not suggested the wormhole as a short cut to make a rendezvous? Did Degra know they would be sent back in time? What if going back in time had altered everything, giving the Xindi the chance to destroy Earth while they were left stranded?

The solution Masaro offered Willis was breathtaking and it appealed to his grief stricken mind. Masaro wanted the crew to rise up against the Captain who had failed them so badly and take control of the _Enterprise_. They could then return to an Earth that was in the midst of the destructive third World war. The prize of Warp technology would be used as a bargaining tool to bring a halt to hostilities. Their actions would change Earth's history for the better as Humans would not have to wait for the arrogant Vulcans to offer their reluctant assistance in order to develop Terran interstellar spaceships.

Willis knew that they would have to move carefully to gather a group of like minded people to their cause. He was already filing away names of a few engineering crewmen who he thought might be persuaded to their way of thinking.

_Enterprise _was being made ready for its mission to trade with alien planets to obtain the supplies they desperately needed. Masaro and Willis hoped the mission would highlight to the crew the duplicitous nature of aliens who would be eager to make a profit from Human misfortune. It would make their message that the Captain's cowardly plan to hide out in the Expanse was very wrong, much easier to deliver.

* * *

T'Pol stood in front of her bathroom mirror staring at her reflection as she conducted an in-depth examination of her emotional state. The fact she was indulging in an act of self indulgent introspection had not escaped her notice. However it was imperative that she consider the truth of her dearest hopes and deepest fears because without this knowledge T'Pol knew her relationship with Trip would not progress.

When they had accepted that they were bound to each other as life mates T'Pol had instigated a daily mediation and neuropressure regime as a way to get to know each other better. However their encounters were becoming increasingly erotic and this was particularly unsettling for T'Pol because the remembrance of their first sexual intercourse still filled her with shame. Shame that she had acted under the influence of Trellium D and the heightened jealously it had triggered in her. Through their bond T'Pol could sense that Trip longed to be able to touch her in a way that would demonstrate just how much she meant to him. She also knew he found it difficult to understand her concern about loosing control when they had already experienced unrestrained and passionate physical intimacy.

Yesterday during the Khavorta posture when her fingers were working on the neural nodes at the back of Trip's jaw, he had been able to initiate a joining of minds and the images associated with that encounter still made the tips of T'Pol's delicately pointed ears tinge with vivid green.

_*__They were so close she could sense his warm breath on her face. Trip had stared at her, complementing her on the angular beauty of her face and the softness of the deep rich brown of her eyes. He had then cupped her face in his hands and leant in to gently cover her skin with little electric shock kisses. The peace of the zone had been disturbed from calm white to vivid blue as she experienced his longing for her. Then T'Pol felt the heat of desire building within her and she had chosen not to back away from the emotion. Instead she had parted her lips signaling the invitation for him to join his to them…* _

Suddenly Trip had hesitated and then retreated, his uncertainty flooding the bond. T'Pol felt a sharp stab of hurt and confusion which was so powerful she only just managed to stop the transmission of those sensations to him while her mind tumbled abruptly away from their link.

T'Pol accepted that even with their shared telepathic bond it was highly probable that there would always be misunderstandings between them. In fact it was their conversation following the disruption of yesterday's neuropressure session that had been the catalyst for her current introspection…

They had remained seated opposite each other with their knees almost touching after Trip severed the link between them. T'Pol's hands that so recently had been touching his jaw were folded neatly in her lap. The glow of the mediation candles had bathed them in a soft light as they stared silently at each other.

Although T'Pol was confused and hurt by his actions she managed to formulate what she considered to be an appropriate response to break the tension between them.

"The use of our bond to replicate physical intimacy is acceptable as a way to enhance our understanding of each other. Eventually once I grow more accustomed to the constant barrage of emotions you emit we can work towards full sexual relations."

Trip had regarded her through narrowed eyes as she realized her attempt to placate him had not been successful and she sensed that he was fighting a loosing battle to control his growing frustration.

"Sorry T'Pol but we've already had sexual relations. I may only be a simple human but aren't we going about this the wrong way. We've already been intimate but now I'm not allowed to touch you! I thought the bond was supposed to make things easier but I feel you are giving me nothing, that you're shutting me out!"

T'Pol had been surprised by the intensity of her reaction to the accusation that she was holding herself back from him. Her voice betrayed a little of her self righteous ire in its brusqueness, "I allowed you to stimulate my mind in a pleasurable manner and I also indicated that I was agreeable to you increasing the intensity of your ministrations. Must I remind you that you were the one who terminated our contact?"

Suddenly Trip had started to giggle which quickly developed into uncontrollable laughter. The more bemused T'Pol had become it seemed to make it harder for Trip to stop his reaction and she was hit by wave after wave of his uncontrolled mirth. She had reviewed what she had said and was unable to ascertain why it was so humorous. Then T'Pol had started to wonder if the bond was affecting his mind and therefore if it would be dangerous for him to continue to strengthen his link to her.

Trip had finally started to calm himself wiping away the tears that had run down his face; his amusement spent as T'Pol broached her concern.

"You are unwell; perhaps your mind cannot cope with the strengthening of the bond between us. The risk involved in trying to sever…"

Immediately Trip vigorously shook his head, "No, no, NO you don't! You don't get rid of me that easily. My human brain is just fine thanks, I just love that your sweet talk sounds like it came straight from a Vulcan scientific text book."

T'Pol's automatic response of raising her eyebrow quizzically at him had caused Trip more amusement. T'Pol had found it difficult to cope with being subjected to a barrage of wildly different emotions in a matter of minutes; it left her exhausted and exhilarated in equal measure and floundering for equilibrium.

Then Trip had abruptly rocked back on his feet pushing himself up to stand towering above her. It had been the signal that that night's session was at an end although they both knew there were still issues that needed to be addressed. In what T'Pol recognized was becoming a regular pattern they had decided to ignore the problem and slip into a more general and mostly comfortable conversational mode. Although with his very first sentence Trip had managed to confuse her again.

"I've got a real bad case of itchy feet," Trip announced as he sat on the edge of T'Pol's bunk putting back on his socks. After his puzzling admission T'Pol had stared at his feet knowing that he said he always showered and changed his clothing before their sessions so as not to cause offence to her "delicate Vulcan nose". In fact she stared with such intensity Trip had caught on and after giving her an amused grin he explained, "What I mean is I can't wait to hear the hum of the engines under my feet, and to be under way again."

Once that issue was resolved T'Pol had started to clear the mediation area extinguishing each of the three large mediation candles. She then turned round to face Trip who had just finished putting on his t-shirt in readiness to leave. "Trip, your mission tomorrow..."

He had acted quickly obviously hoping to quell any further concern on her part, "There's nothing to worry about; Travis has aced shuttlepod landings on rocks far smaller than this one. And Jon's already given us the "don't do anything stupid" lecture."

"Except I know how much time you spend thinking about me."

"There you go again, all concerned that my poor human mind can't cope!" Trip had laughed out loud and his tone of voice indicated that he was teasing her as he added, "I thought you weren't supposed to listen to my thoughts without me knowing?"

"Believe me, I try not to." T'Pol had replied falling back on her favourite stance of folding her arms across her chest and then arching her eyebrow at him.

Trip had screwed up his eyes and made what T'Pol considered to be his flippant face back at her. Although she had more experience of Human non verbal experience then most Vulcans her interpretation of his physical signals were still most successful when combined with his verbal communication. In this case his light hearted mood was confirmed by his words, "At least I'm not part of your mission. I'd do anything to avoid having to be in the same place as that stupid metallic cube ever again!"

Than after he made some last adjustments to his top smoothing the material down so that it didn't look like it had been hurriedly discarded he had reached out his hand to T'Pol. She had closed the space between them to allow the first two fingers of their hands to touch so that for a brilliant instant they could be one again.

T'Pol had stood stock still afterwards as her mind reeled with the delicious aftershock of a Vulcan kiss.

Then Trip had activated the door and left after winking at her, "Don't worry I'll make sure I'm not seen leaving your quarters."

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T'Pol finally dropped her gaze from her reflection. The answer had been staring her in the face all this time. When their minds were linked Trip had said he felt she gave him nothing while what T'Pol was doing was blocking him access to memories he in his haphazard Human way was unconsciously searching for. In particular he was looking for explanations for her behaviour on that night not so long ago when without hesitation she had seduced him. T'Pol knew then with sickening clarity that if she continued to hold back her shameful secrets from Trip; their relationship would begin to weaken. She must be completely honest with him even though this conclusion caused her to feel considerable trepidation. T'Pol resolved that when Trip came to her quarters that evening she would lay all of the facts before him and then await his verdict.

With the matter resolved T'Pol then went to collect the PADD on which she had collated all of the relevant data from her last visit to the planet the crew had taken to calling "Little Earth". She was about to leave for the Shuttle Bay when she felt a tingling sensation run through her mind and with consummate ease she tuned into the bond to hear Trip humming a particularly irritating tune. T'Pol tried to ignore the noise because she had to report for duty but it was so intrusive she had to admit defeat and get Trip's attention.

*_Trip_*

The noise just got louder and more annoying, *_TRIP!_*

*_T'Pol, you can hear me!_*

_T'Pol __walked over to Trip who was standing surrounded by the intense whiteness of their zone of tranquility. He had a self satisfied grin on his face and was waving frantically at her. _

_*__At least you can now stop making that…terrible noise, you have my attention*_

_Trip placed his hand on his heart and lurched backwards, pretending to have been mortally offended by T'Pol's assessment of his musical ability. _

_*__Then stop listening or were you checking up on me again?*_

T'Pol wondered if she would ever understand this man, her chosen mate. And in particular if she would ever grasp all the subtleties of his odd sense of humour.

_*Trip, you made the connection*_

_*I wanted to see if I could still reach you as we travelled away from _Enterprise_.*_

And then his behaviour made sense to T'Pol; he was playing with their bond. He was behaving in a way that no Vulcan would ever consider appropriate. It would be seen as far too invasive but she understood that he was an engineer who needed to examine and test the mechanism that enabled them to link to each other. As she considered his actions T'Pol found she approved of his game of discovery even though its timing was ill conceived.

_*__Your experiment was successful*_

_*Praise indeed, from the __Science Officer.*_

_*Perhaps it should have been conducted at a more appropriate time.*_

_*__I promise that I'm now going to turn my full attention to what I should be doing even though Travis really doesn't need me breathing down his neck. We both know he could pilot the shuttlepod with one hand tied behind his back.*_

_*Although I accept he is a skilled pilot I doubt that would be feasible. I am however relieved that you will no longer be distracted from your mission by me.*_

_*Oh T'Pol I'm always going to be distracted by you! You remember to take care too my ashau*_

_*Ashaya is the correct term to use, my ashaya*_

_*I stand corrected, __**my **__ashaya*_

Trip's voice was gentle as he carefully pronounced the Vulcan term, naming T'Pol as his _love_ and he projected his feelings in a smile that lit up his face. They touched fingers via the bond and T'Pol was able to sense treasured bursts of pure electric energy surging between them. Then they turned and walked away from each other as the pristine white faded to be quickly replaced by a thickening and swirling mist.

The link was broken and T'Pol found herself standing alone in her quarters staring out through the port in the direction the Shuttlepod carrying Trip and Travis had taken, although it was already a long way out of sight of the _Enterprise. _Even though their exchanges were almost always challenging T'Pol found she invariably missed his direct presence in her conscious mind. She could not help wondering if that would be the last time they would converse in such a way. T'Pol had no way of gauging how Trip would react to the revelations she would present him with later that day but she feared his reaction would be an adverse one. Without a priest proficient enough to sever their mate bond Trip could be unwillingly tied to her for the rest of his life. However she had accepted her decision and although it would be difficult she could not deviate from that course of action.

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Luckily for T'Pol who had never experienced an inability to meet her exacting Vulcan standards for punctuality until the strengthening of her bond to a certain Chief Engineer, Shuttlepod 2 was late in returning from planet-side. The last rotation of crew on shore leave had spent their final night far away from the main camp site. Unfortunately a sudden and heavy rainstorm meant the crew had to spend an uncomfortable night under canvas and then endure a slow hike back to the pick up point.

As T'Pol approached the Shuttle Bay six crew members emerged through the entrance. They were talking in a loud and animated fashion with each other and although they were mud splattered they seemed more invigorated than downhearted by their experience of inclement weather. As each one of them passed T'Pol they straightened up and acknowledged her position as a senior officer. Then they resumed their excited conversations.

T'Pol was grateful that the crew had been able to find such a safe planet as it was obvious to her that they were benefitting from spending time on its surface. They had recently faced the horror and violence of battle and the loss of comrades so the chance to be in a place where nature held sway had a healing affect on traumatized psyches even if it meant getting soaked to the skin.

Entering the shuttle bay T'Pol walked towards Captain Archer who was standing next to Shuttlepod 2 speaking with Ensign Hoshi Sato. Major Hayes was leaning into the hatch of the shuttlepod handing equipment to a person whose voice she recognized as Lieutenant Reed's. Two MACOs in full kit were keeping out of the way at the back of the shuttle bay, standing at ease, while they awaited the order to board.

"Commander," Archer acknowledged her arrival with a nod. As T'Pol joined them Archer continued, "Hoshi, the scans show that there is a large concentration of Trellium D ore close to the surface of the meteor. I have told Trip and Travis to concentrate on these so they don't have to take any unnecessary risks."

"If they get carried away and start blowing things up I'll remind them of your orders Captain!" Hoshi replied with a smile although her steely determination was evident in her eyes. Hoshi was being left in charge of _Enterprise _and the co-ordination of the two missions; it was a responsibility she was not about to take lightly.

Although T'Pol's system was completely cleansed of Trellium D, the mere mention of it brought an unwelcome surge of longing which caused a tremor of panic to run through her mind. She knew that it would be much easier for her to live with the echoes of her addiction if the substance was not on the ship.

Knowing that Trellium D was toxic to Vulcan physiology Archer had sought to reassure T'Pol it would be contained securely. He had stressed to her that that he would never have Trellium D on board if there was not a desperate need to have something of value to barter for the vital equipment and supplies they needed. T'Pol had pointed out yet again that logically the ore would be better used to protect _Enterprise's _hull. Predictably Archer ended that conversation by rejecting her offer to remain behind on their planet base. He had stated firmly that he could not afford to lose any of the crew and in particular her invaluable expertise.

Archer gave Ensign Sato a reassuring smile before dismissing her. However T'Pol could sense that as always he was at his most tense when he felt he was not in control of a situation. T'Pol had been long aware of this flaw in his nature; he had difficulty in delegating tasks to others who were more qualified under his command. In contrast she knew that a Vulcan captain would not hesitate to utilize the skills of his crew to the full, regardless of any risk. Trip and Travis were engaged in a dangerous mission and T'Pol knew Archer was only tagging along on her mission to keep himself busy until the other team had safely returned to _Enterprise._ T'Pol took comfort from what Archer could not know; Trip was properly rested therefore his ability to work effectively was close to optimum capacity.

T'Pol took her place in the Pod while Reed and Archer started the pre-flight checks. T'Pol remembered that the last time she sat there, Trip had been seated just across from her. Major Hayes was currently occupying that seat and she simply acknowledged his presence with a nod which he returned with a salute before she activated her PADD to review the pertinent data. Major Hayes then continued to discuss tactics with his men who were positioned at the rear of the pod.

Archer who was seated in the pilot's seat turned round to look at her and then he shouted out, "Ready to go check out your anomaly, Commander?"

T'Pol decided a response was not required as Archer had already turned back to prepare for their departure. After serving with humans for almost four years she accepted their need to vocalize pointless remarks. However as the shuttlepod exited _Enterprise's _shuttle bay she was aware of Trip's influence when she entertained herself by speculating what Archer would have said if she had replied in the negative.

Although their bond was not yet at full strength T'Pol was aware that her mate was travelling further away from her. She felt the loneliness of separation even though the bond remained a constant presence. This was a new anomaly for her to feel but one that was acknowledged in what Vulcan literature existed on the subject. Mate bonds and those between family members were the only acceptable vehicle for the open exchange of emotions. The ties between mates were particularly strong therefore making the physical absence of one member difficult for the other to bear. T'Pol gave up on the pretence that she was taking in any of the information on her PADD and stared out of the viewing port at the planet below her while her thoughts turned to her childhood on Vulcan.

T'Pol had faced constant criticism for her inability to fully control her emotions even as a child. It had been frequently pointed out that her emotions were dangerously close to the surface. T'Pol found it interesting to consider how her acceptance of a relationship with Trip had already changed her. For the first time in her life T'Pol no longer felt ashamed of the strength of the feelings she had previously expended so much time and energy trying to control. She decided there and then that she would fight with every fiber of her being to remain with Trip and to convince him that despite her faults she would be a worthy mate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Communication **

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**Chapter ****Two**

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Travis was in his favourite place; the pilot's seat. He was still wearing his EV suit but he had discarded his helmet. It was resting on one of the two containers full of precious Trellium D ore which hopefully would be very valuable for trading. Trip was at the monitoring station situated behind Travis, a second pair of eyes as Travis negotiated their return journey through the asteroid field.

All in all this was turning out to be a good day for the helmsman. He estimated that at this rate they would be home well before the other away team. He was relieved that they had survived the most dangerous part of their mission. Both of them had commented on how broken up and damaged the surface of the asteroid was. It provided compelling evidence that the rock they had been standing on had suffered numerous violent collisions with the asteroids around it. The condition of the asteroid had aided their collection of the ore but they both felt vulnerable with only their EV suits between them and any possible impact. It had been a wonderful feeling to power up the Shuttlepod and set a course back to base.

Suddenly Travis was aware of a flurry of activity behind him, the hurried tapping of fingers as information was requested which was then followed by responsive bleeps from the pod's computer. Then when Trip reported his findings he sounded tense, "Travis, There's a rapidly increasing distortion registering to port."

Travis let his eyes fall to the readings on his sensor screens and he could see that the distortion had already erupted into a fast moving front. He only had time to register that its trajectory was going to take it straight towards the pod. Before he could even think about taking evasive action, they were swallowed whole by the expanding anomaly and tossed about as if they were mere flotsam on an angry sea.

Travis rammed his legs under his control console in an attempt to remain anchored at the helm. He felt Trip grab hold of the back of his seat and use it to maneuver himself forward so that he could also see what was happening through the forward viewing port. Travis ignored the proximity alarms as they screeched their warnings at him while he struggled do his job. His full concentration was focused on trying to avoid either hitting or being hit as he looked for a way out. All around them asteroids exploded into each other and the debris from the collisions ricocheted through the maelstrom where only a short time ago there had been clear space. As he continued his desperate battle to control the pod, Travis got the sense that the vessel was nearing its breaking point. The groaning and creaking of the metal as it bucked and dived in the swirling soup of rock was all the evidence he needed that they were in deep trouble.

Travis felt Trip release his grip on the back of the pilot's chair presumably to return to his station just as the pod was pulled into a steep dive. Trip's full weight was thrown against the back of the pilot's chair as the containers of Trellium D rolled forward, breaking free of the straps used to anchor them to the floor. The heavy containers slammed against the side of his chair and Travis was knocked forward with such force his forehead slammed into the console in front of him. As he fell forward Travis heard a sickening thud as something heavy made hard contact with the roof of the pod. Then the pod's nose tipped upwards and started to rise steeply. Travis was pushed hard into his chair while he battled to try to regain control and avoid the objects in their path. The noise in the pod was so intense he had no idea what had happened to Trip. Travis could only hope that he had not been thrown back towards the rear of the vessel along with the heavy Trellium D containers.

Then without warning the pod stopped dead as though they had been caught and held in a giant's strong hand. With the internal commotion stilled Travis could make out the sound of the Impulse engines as they strained against the iron grip of whatever was keeping a hold of their vessel. Dazed Travis turned his head slowly aware that his body was sending out its own alarm signals about the seriousness of his injuries. His head and left arm which had been crushed between his seat and the console were causing him the most concern. Travis carefully lifted his right hand to his throbbing head and felt the start of swelling on his forehead. He was about to try to locate Trip when the pod jerked violently and then was dragged back so fast he was thrown forwards. His last sensation before his mind shut down was of crashing into the hard surface of the pilot's control panel.

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As she climbed out of the Shuttlepod T'Pol could not help but look up at the sky. It was the same vivid blue as the first time she had been there with Trip. T'Pol realized that she would have liked him to see this vista one more time before they left the relative safety of the planet. It was only when her boots sank into the rain sodden earth underfoot that there was any evidence of the heavy rain that had delayed the start of their mission.

As T'Pol joined the away team, Captain Archer was talking with the two MACO privates Russell and Carender, while Reed was pointing out various landmarks to Hayes, who had not been on the planet before.

Archer turned to T'Pol as she joined the group. He then nodded at one of the young MACOs as he addressed T'Pol, "Commander, Private Russell has an interesting query; he wants to know if it would be possible to grow Earth crops on this planet?"

T'Pol immediately launched into a detailed response which she directed solely at the increasingly abashed young MACO.

"The soil is fertile and _Enterprise _carries sufficient seed samples of various types of Terran flora to make experimental planting feasible. Although the frequent heavy precipitation would require that any successful seedlings would need to be protected until the plants were established. Consideration would also have to be given to the fact that we would be introducing alien plant life to this planet even though it is highly probable that its own environment did not develop naturally. Therefore while it would be prudent to have a secondary food source it is likely, particularly in the earlier stages to be resource intensive."

Then T'Pol turned her attention to Archer as Private Russell noticeably relaxed, relieved that she did not expect him to enter into any further discussion on what had only been an off the cuff remark to the Captain.

T'Pol posed a query of her own to Archer, "Are you considering establishing a permanent settlement here, Captain?"

"A cramped spaceship is hardly the best place to rear children. I think that a deserted planet with fertile land which could be farmed would fit our requirements perfectly."

Archer then turned from the group to stare at the broken down dwellings of the old settlement. He partly closed his eyes against the brilliant sunshine and in his mind was able to conjure up a thriving community with restored buildings, cultivated fields reaching over the horizon, and the happy shouts of children playing drifting through the air. With an inward sigh Archer then shook off his day dream because nice as it was he had far more immediate and pressing concerns. _One day though _he promised himself as he started to organize the away team.

"Major Hayes and Private Carender will accompany the Commander to investigate the anomaly while the rest of us will stand by in the warehouse. Commander, keep me informed of your progress and proceed with caution."

* * *

As T'Pol's team made their way down to the settlement, Archer, Reed and Russell headed straight for the massive ramshackle building which housed the mysterious metallic object. They halted when they reached the entrance to stare into the gloom which was pierced with narrow shafts of sunlight streaming through the broken roof. The metallic cube was picked out by one of these natural spotlights causing its surface to glitter brilliantly.

"I think it's laughing at us Sir." Reed said, giving Archer a wry grin.

Archer laughed along with Reed as he enjoyed the Englishman's dry wit before replying, "As long as we get the last laugh, I don't care Malcolm."

Then they walked straight up to the object, Reed giving it a playful kick with his boot for being so infuriatingly alien. Meanwhile Russell eyed the cube with the healthy suspicion of a soldier coming into contact with the unknown for the first time. He held his phase rifle at the ready as he slowly circled it while conducting a thorough inspection of the area.

Reed stood back and tilted his head to one side to look at it from a different angle as if that would shed light on the puzzle and then he commented, "I never could understand modern art; perhaps this isn't meant to have a purpose?"

Archer put his hand on top of the warm surface and felt the same gentle vibrations as other crewmembers had reported. How could this thing be alive with enough energy to generate heat for no good reason? He then gave voice to his concern, "I don't like mysteries; I can feel it in my bones that it's more than a lump of metal!"

Archer's communicator was activated distracting him from the problem in front of him as he immediately reached for it from the pocket in the arm of his uniform. "Commander, report"

"Sir, I can advise that we have reached the site of the anomaly."

"Understood Commander, keep me appraised of any developments, Archer out."

Reed had already wandered off to explore the large empty space inside the building while Russell was standing a short distance away from the object staring at it with a concentrated mistrust. As Archer returned the communicator to his pocket he found himself in his least favourite role, that of a bystander. He hated the waiting and the responsibility that went with ordering someone else to take risks. He returned to the entrance where he leant against the opening and looked out, hoping to get some comfort from the radiant blue sky. Unfortunately all that did was remind him of home and all that had been lost forever. Impatient with his inability to draw any peace from a beautiful azure sky and the familiar feeling of heat from a sun on his face he turned back to face the interior of the warehouse.

Wanting something to do he was about to contact _Enterprise_ for an update from Hoshi when his communicator burst back into life. As Reed started to walk back towards his position Archer acknowledged the hail from T'Pol.

"Captain, I have conducted a detailed scan and have confirmed the existence of an anomaly in one of the residential buildings. Its profile exactly matches the readings I obtained during my first visit. There is a…"

Archer's communicator hissed and crackled with interference before the connection was lost.

At that instant Archer was startled by a sudden movement from the mysterious metallic cube. Reed shouted across to Russell and two men approached it with their weapons drawn. Archer followed them and as they got closer it became obvious that a small section in the top of the cube had opened revealing a narrow compartment. While continuing to stare at the object in disbelief Archer reactivated his communicator and in a frantic attempt to raise T'Pol's team started shouting her name into it.

As soon as the static cleared all he could hear was silence for a heart stopping moment and then T'Pol's comfortingly calm voice came through loud and clear.

"Captain, an extremely powerful burst of energy was emitted from this position and now I can no longer detect the anomaly."

"T'Pol, I need you to see this, report to me immediately along with the rest of your team!"

Reed was already giving this new development some close attention. "Sir, the compartment contains a single flat disk made of the same material as the cube. It looks like it could be a control button. I believe it can be depressed down into the cube. However I would recommend that we test my theory by deploying a remote. That is if you still want to solve this mystery?"

Archer went over to stand beside Reed and although he was wary of this strange turn of events he also found himself marveling at the level of the technology that had kept the compartment hidden from Trip's detailed fingertip examination.

"Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to hide the true purpose of this thing."

"It certainly knocks my theory about it being an alien work of art firmly on the head," Reed replied and as befitted a security officer in full red alert mode there was no trace of humour in his voice.

Suddenly there was an audible hiss and the button moved downwards as if it had been depressed by an invisible hand. For a split second Archer and Reed stood rooted to the spot by sheer terror as the cube started to spin throwing out a fine spray of dust. It continued to pick up speed as the adrenalin coursing through their bodies compelled them to retreat. Their panic forced them to the ground as they flung themselves as far away from danger as they could. At the same time Russell shouted out a warning while he too hit the ground. He then used his momentum to rotate his body so that he and his phase rifle were both facing the rotating object.

With Russell and Reed providing protection they lay rooted to the spot staring up at the narrow metallic cylinder that had emerged from the ground. Two bars supported a thin mesh cage that surrounded the back half of the cylinder while the cube which not so long ago had been solidly planted in the earth was perched on top of the cage.

T'Pol and her team rushed in just as they were slowly getting to their feet while remaining alert to any sign of movement from the object in front of them.

Without warning the front of cylinder suddenly peeled open; wrapping round inside the metal mesh cage to come to rest behind a rigid back panel. Reed murmured, "Open Sesame", and shot a grin at Archer.

Then Reed having quickly weighed up the situation and done some mental calculations announced, "I should be able to fit in there, even with an EV suit. It would be a tight squeeze but I am certain it's feasible."

"Or we could just walk away, "Archer said grimly weighing up the risks and erring on the side of caution.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't agree. We will have to take risks like this every day if we are going to survive here!" Reed stopped abruptly as if he was astonished by his own perceived impertinence. Then encouraged by Archer's silence he continued to press home his argument, "I'm volunteering because this is an invitation I don't think we should ignore."

Archer wondered if he was being too cautious. Reed would take all the necessary precautions and this mystery should be investigated, particularly if one day they decided to set up a permanent colony on this planet. Even though he was unable to shake off a growing feeling of foreboding he gave Reed the order he was waiting for, "Go get suited up Lieutenant."

Reed then ran off at speed to the Shuttlepod to make sure he did not give Archer the chance to change his mind.

* * *

When Reed came rushing back into the building a short time later clutching his helmet and obviously keen to get on with his mission T'Pol was just finishing a sweep of the area with her scanner. As Hayes stepped forward to help him check his suit and attach the helmet T'Pol walked over to Archer. The focus of their attention: the open cylinder remained ominously still and silent, the smooth metallic interior displaying the team's distorted reflections as they moved around it.

While Reed continued his preparations T'Pol advised Archer of her findings.

"The energy levels being emitted by the object have increased by 91.67%. There are no other detectable variations from the earlier data collected in respect to the surrounding area. Therefore I consider that this energy spike specifically relates to the object's purpose. The mechanism would appear to be in operational mode."

"Care to speculate on its purpose?"

"I believe the consensus is that it is a transportation device, Captain."

"You don't agree?"

"I have insufficient data to form a conclusive opinion."

Archer accepted her answer knowing he could expect nothing more from her but a logical assessment of the situation. He did wonder sometimes why he continued to push her to make a leap of faith based on a gut instinct. That was not her way and he had many reasons to thank her for her clear headed judgment in the past. Moving towards where Reed was standing he could feel the fear start to rise within him again.

Archer waited until Reed had made his final checks and then addressed the Lieutenant, "Be careful Malcolm, don't take any chances, no heroics."

Reed nodded and patted the hilt of his phase pistol which was secured in its holster. He closed and locked his visor into place and then he maneuvered himself backwards into the narrow cylinder. The last sight they had of Reed was of him attempting to make an abbreviated thumbs-up gesture while the curved door slid shut. Then the cylinder immediately shot back into the ground leaving the cube imbedded in the ground again. Only the cloud of fine dust swirling around it gave an indication of what had just happened.

Archer turned towards were T'Pol was standing intending to ask her to run further scans of the immediate area and to see if it was possible to track Reed's position. He stopped short as he noticed that T'Pol was violently shivering as though achingly cold. The considerable strain on her face showed the extreme stress she was under as though T'Pol was fighting the battle of her life to stop herself from being wrenched apart. Archer realized that the powerful emotion he could see in her eyes was pure fear. Then he noticed that the other team members were also watching T'Pol with fascinated bewilderment.

The sensations had been slight at first and T'Pol had been able to go on functioning by containing and ignoring them. However as they got stronger and the pain became too intense to bear they had burst through her defenses.

Then she felt as though she was tumbling through a space full of debris that brutally buffeted her defenseless body. All T'Pol could see was a swirling and thickening grey mist that engulfed and choked her; forcing her to fight for each breath while surrounded by an overwhelming barrage of noise. When with a sickening suddenness the mist started to clear and it became terribly silent, the only sensation she then became aware of was the quiet rhythm of a gradually fading heartbeat.

T'Pol gave out a sharp scream of indescribable agony. Archer leapt out his skin at the horrific sound of her distress and then as he watched helplessly, she raked her fingernails down her cheeks leaving behind vivid trails of olive green. Archer briefly made contact with her eyes which were full of desperate pain before T'Pol's legs collapsed beneath her and she slumped to the ground. Then she reached up to cradle her head in her hands as her body curled into the foetal position. His heart still thudding wildly Archer caught the looks on the faces of the others and he recognized that his shock was mirrored in their questioning eyes.

Numb with fear, Archer walked over to where T'Pol lay and he grouched over her prone figure. He was tempted to try and reach out to touch her but resisted as he did not want his rattled emotions to be transferred to her; to add to T'Pol's obvious pain. Instead he resorted to gently repeating her name and eventually T'Pol relaxed just enough to lift her head from the ground to look directly at him. Her eyes were still brimmed with her terrible hurt as she whispered in a voice filled with horror, "He is dead..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Communication**

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**Chapter ****Three**

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There was no peace to be found, not in a fractured primeval darkness into which she had been plunged. Ripped apart, broken and bleeding she felt a real and intense physical pain although she knew that she had suffered no injury. Her skin burned where it was in contact with the dry earth making her yearn to cry out in anguish while at her centre there was nothing left but a dull empty numbness.

Unable to fight against the unbearable intensity of her grief T'Pol gave in and allowed the raging conflict to consume her. She had travelled with him in what had to have been his last vivid moments of life and it seemed as though she had been left with an indelible imprint of his suffering. Then T'Pol was gifted with a moment of clarity when she recalled that before the time of Surak the death of a mate could also claim the life of the one left behind. Her agony had driven her to such despair she took incredible comfort from this idea; holding it to her as if she was drowning and had been thrown a rope to cling to…

Archer had retreated to a respectful distance although he was unable to stop himself from staring at T'Pol in disbelief and dread as she still lay where she had fallen. The uncontrollable trembling that had racked her body had ceased. Instead she was so still that she seemed to be paralyzed or worse, to be dying.

He was completely lost; not knowing what he could offer in the way of comfort. Archer knew that as a Vulcan she would not appreciate any attempt to hold her regardless of the obvious distress she felt. However he also considered that T'Pol's behaviour was so completely out of character, physical contact might be exactly what she desperately needed. The terrible words T'Pol had spoken before she had collapsed kept running through his mind. He wondered how she could have sensed that Reed had died; was Vulcan telepathy so sensitive that she had been forced to experience his final moments.

After watching her for a few moments longer in the vain hope that she would come round on her own Archer decided to seek help. He turned away from T'Pol and the rest of the group and activated his communicator. He kept his voice low as he asked for Doctor Phlox. The doctor acknowledged the transmission immediately in his usual clear and singsong voice.

"Phlox, we need medical assistance, Commander T'Pol has collapsed. She spoke about someone having died and…"

An emergency signal cut across their conversation, "Ensign Sato to Captain Archer…"

"Captain Archer here Hoshi…"

"Sir, we've lost sensor contact with Shuttlepod One. They were returning to _Enterprise _with a full load of Trellium D ore. We were tracking their progress when an anomaly appeared in the area of their projected flight path…the Shuttlepod is no longer registering on any of our sensors."

"When were you last in contact with them?"

"Travis reported in fifteen minutes ago to let us know they had safely taken off from the asteroid. The anomaly field increased in dimension so quickly we did not have time to warn them."

"Understood, it's okay Hoshi, it's possible they saw it coming and where able to take evasive action. I need you to collect as much data on the anomaly as you can; we're on our way back to the ship. Tell Lieutenant Hess to start preparing _Enterprise_ to leave the space dock, Archer out."

The words seemed to come from so very far away but strangely she had been able to hear every single syllable of every word in the exchange with painful clarity. T'Pol considered the information contained in those words and realized that at last she had solid facts to work with to explain the torturous sensations she was enduring. Her practical scientific nature thrived on such data and systematically she began to search for an answer. Then she found that the only conclusion that could be made was that the slender thread of hope Archer had offered Hoshi was false. She had felt their link splinter apart leaving her bereft and alone. There was no escaping the fact that she could only hear one voice in her injured mind and it was hers. It screamed at her that there was no other possibility but that he was gone.

She stiffened as she sensed that another being was approaching her circle of pain. There were no shields left in her mind to protect her from the distress he was projecting onto the web of powerful emotions that were already threatening to submerge her…

Archer returned to crouch by T'Pol's side. His voice was gentle as he tried to reach out to her, "T'Pol, I'm going to take you back to _Enterprise, _could you get to your feet if I help you?"

Again the words had to travel a great distance but this time T'Pol found it very difficult at first to make sense of the jumble of sounds she had heard. Then she had to concentrate hard to gain sufficient control of her motor responses to turn the Captain's request into commands her body recognized. At last T'Pol was able to slowly relax and straighten out her body so that she was lying flat on her back on the ground. Her sight was clouded by a shifting mist that made it difficult to see more then muted light and the dark humanoid form hovering above her. Then the humanoid reached out to her offering an arm to cling to. After mustering what strength she had T'Pol reached out to grab hold of the limb, wrapping her fingers tightly around it so that she could be pulled from the ground to stand upright…

When she had turned her ashen face towards him Archer got the impression that T'Pol could not see him, her eyes remaining unfocused and blank under his gaze. T'Pol's hand rested lightly in the crook of his arm but Archer could still feel the violent shivers that were coursing through her, the result of the physical exertion she had expended just to get to her feet. He also noted that T'Pol was leaning into him slightly and appeared to be favouring her left side. Wondering if she had injured herself when she had fallen he enquired anxiously, "If I stay close to you, do you think you can make it to the shuttlepod."

T'Pol only managed to give him a brief nod in response which left Archer convinced that he would probably end up having to carry her.

While Archer knew he was facing the terrible possibility that he had lost at least one and maybe even three members of his crew he decided not to accept that scenario until there was no hope. He was certainly not going to abandon Reed if there was a chance he was alive. So before setting off Archer issued the Major and his men with their orders.

"You and your men are to remain here to provide backup for Lieutenant Reed. Supplies will be beamed down to you before _Enterprise_ leaves orbit. Inform me as soon as Lieutenant Reed makes contact."

Hayes acknowledged his orders and then Archer turned on his heel and started to walk in step with the silent T'Pol who inexplicably was limping badly on her right leg. He stayed close enough to be there if she needed assistance while maintaining enough of a physical distance not to offend her Vulcan sensibilities. A sickening feeling of dread ate at him as he kept a close watch on her dogged progress. As well as worrying about Malcolm his thoughts also turned to Trip and Travis. He decided not to give up on them either. He chose to believe that it was the anomaly field that was stopping _Enterprise _from tracking and communicating with them. He imagined that Trip and Travis had found refuge in a cavern deep within a large asteroid where they could safely wait out the storm.

T'Pol used her last reserves of energy to stumble up to the pod and exhausted she turned and let herself slump against its outer skin and then slide down to come to rest seated on the ground. Once he had checked that T'Pol was safe, Archer opened the hatch and climbed inside, leaving her to rest while he made flight checks and powered up the pod. He also took the opportunity to contact Phlox and gave the order for a medical team to be waiting for them.

While the hard shell of the pod supported her it also served as a reminder of its sister vessel which it appeared had been too fragile to survive the anomaly. Her right leg was aching terribly so she reached down to rub where she had the worst discomfort only to find there was no pain there. She had examined her entire limb checking for evidence of broken bone or torn muscle but found nothing abnormal. This only served to confirm what she had already surmised; he had left her a blueprint of his death and it pained her to know how deeply he had suffered.

Then it occurred to T'Pol that she would be more comfortable if she got inside the pod. She started to experience a growing need to get to Doctor Phlox even though she considered that only a Vulcan priest would be able to heal her broken mind and save her life. As T'Pol dragged herself to her feet she suddenly realized that it felt as if she was being guided by another, and that being could only be Trip. However this could not be the case as their bond had been severed. There was another explanation although the fact he was Human made it extremely difficult to believe it was possible. In extremes he could have transmitted his Human Katra to her, which would mean his soul would live on within her as long she breathed. Even though his pain stripped her of all control sending the deepest of emotions spiraling crazily through her mind, T'Pol preferred this solution to the idea that his death was killing her. She decided not to look too closely at her logic as she had found a reason to go on, even as her mind threatened to descend into total chaos…

Archer was surprised to see that T'Pol had found the strength to stand up on her own but without waiting to question how she had managed it he reached out to offer her an arm to help her climb inside. He could read the profound sorrow written in her openly emotional and desolate features and in response his chest contracted until he could hardly breathe because of his own physical pain.

In bleak silence Archer helped T'Pol to her seat and then returned to the pilot's seat. He engaged the impulse engines and they lifted off Little Earth to return to _Enterprise_.

* * *

As the cylinder vibrated around him while plummeting into the ground at high speed Reed gave silent thanks that it was a fear of water he suffered from rather than of confined spaces. The constant movement bounced his body against the walls of the metallic can and the dazzling reflections from his helmet danced on the shiny surface blinding him. Then abruptly the cylinder gave a final violent shudder and came to a dead stop.

For a few moments Reed leant against the wall directly in front of him, catching his breath to recover from the bruising journey.

The build up of heat in the narrow container was becoming stifling even with the protection offered by his EV suit. As Reed's hope faded that the cylinder would release him from its confines automatically, he decided to try and find his own way out. He managed with some difficulty to place his gloved hands onto the curved surface. Reed could feel the sweat trickling down his back as he started to shuffle around in search of a release mechanism while his backpack scraped against the wall of the cylinder. His relief was palpable when at the back of the unit he finally located a small indentation into which a single button had been set.

Although Reed then hesitated as he considered that there was every chance he was walking straight into a trap. The container could have come to a stop in mid air and he would be sent hurdling down to certain death or his welcoming party could be a group of well armed hostile aliens. Reed contemplated his possible fate as the proverbial fish in a barrel and wondered how on earth he had managed to get himself into this mess. After taking time to compose himself as well as indulge in some final thoughts of family and friends, Reed took a deep breath and pressed the button. Nothing happened for a heartbeat, and then suddenly the wall of the unit peeled swiftly open. It happened so quickly Reed stumbled and almost fell flat on his back. He managed to steady himself by grabbing hold of the static back panel.

As fast as he could Reed turned to face the unknown only to find the light from his helmet barely pierced the inky darkness. Gingerly he stepped off the disk shaped floor of the cylinder onto solid ground. He felt the air swishing behind him as the cylinder reformed, snapping shut with a cruel inevitability the second he was clear of it. He just managed to catch a fleeting impression of the gleaming cylinder as it disappeared up into a narrow shaft in the stone roof.

Reed tried to use his helmet comm but static was the only response he got and he guessed that the signal was being blocked. Looking around and getting more accustomed to the gloom he realized he was in a narrow tunnel with roughly hewn rock walls. As his light shone onto the rock the minerals trapped within it glistened. However the floor he stood on was a smooth grey concrete like walkway. Reed activated his scanner and the readings confirmed the presence of breathable air. Gratefully he lifted his visor and was surprised at how pleasant the atmosphere was given how far he thought he had descended beneath the planet's surface.

He had no other choice but to go straight ahead so with his scanner in one hand and his phase pistol in the other he carefully edged his way along the tunnel. After a long and tiring walk the walls started to widen until they disappeared from his sight. From the trapped weight of air pressing down on him Reed sensed that he had walked into a cavernous space. His scans confirmed his gut instinct of the sheer enormity of the place. He then located another tunnel in the far distance which was in aliment with the one he had just travelled through. Reed set out towards the opening with only the scanner to guide him and the noise of his footsteps reverberating through the vast darkness to break the silence. He found that this achingly empty space scared him a hundred times more then the narrow cylinder that had transported him there.

The scanner started to bleep a warning at him as he approached the entrance to the other tunnel. Reed checked the readout and his heart skipped a beat. There was another being down there with him situated roughly twenty metres dead ahead of his current position. He immediately started to run a diagnostic which when complete surprised him by identifying the being as a Skagaran male. _Enterprise_ had only encountered this species on one other planet in the Expanse which although it was a great distance from Little Earth made Reed ponder if there was a connection.

Reed knew that the Skagaran must be aware of his presence too and was probably waiting for him to make the first move. He had no choice but to continue on but as he entered the tunnel Reed took even more care and was alert to the slightest movement.

Ten metres into the tunnel Reed found his way barred by a large metallic hatch. He searched the area around it as best he could in near total darkness but was unable to locate an opening mechanism. He put away the scanner having something he felt much more familiar and comfortable with holding under the circumstances - his phase pistol. After several tense minutes when he had nothing to do but to wait, the hatch began to move slowly upwards into a slot in the roof of the tunnel. Reed reacted to the movement by pressing his body as close to the tunnel's rough wall as he could manage.

However instead of the hostile fire Reed had expected once the hatch started to rise up; natural light began to flood into his side of the tunnel. When it was fully open and he peered around the hatch's metallic framework he saw that it was actually a lighting array inset on the both sides and on the ceiling of the arched walkway that was cruelly mimicking sunlight. His heart thudding against his ribs Reed stepped over the hatch framework and started to walk up the gently sloping floor of the tunnel towards a second hatch which started to rise as he approached.

Reed stood beside the entrance with his back against the wall. The first thing that hit him square on the nose was a truly terrible stale odour which was wafting out from the room beyond the opening. The smell was so vile that it made him want to gag and he had to shield his nose and mouth with his gloved hand. Reed hardly dared think about what had died in there to leave behind such an overpoweringly sickly sweet scent. However with one hand protecting him from the smell and his phase pistol in his other hand he turned towards the open hatchway and looked in.

He had to blink hard against the harsh light that greeted him making his eyes sting and water. Then he got his first glimpse of a shadowy figure; a very small being with bird like stick legs and a slightly stooped frame. Reed stepped over the rim of the hatchway and took a few steps into the room towards what he had already identified as a Skagaran. The being was standing in front of the bank of intensely bright white spotlights that felt like they were burning holes in Reed's retinas. As he moved closer and his eyes adjusted to the visual noise Reed was able to make out the wizened and pale features of an aged male. The being was wearing a simple and very loose faded tunic with three narrow white bands decorating the right sleeve. He also had on a pair of very baggy leggings which had suffered extensive wear and tear around the knee area. To finish off his outfit the Skagaran sported a pair of shiny black boots which were obviously several sizes too big for him.

Suddenly the little male lifted one spindly arm and started to make bizarre movements up and down through the air; the loose cloth from his sleeve flapping against his arm. The spotlights were immediately deactivated making Reed wondered if they were controlled by certain movements. It took several minutes for Reed's eyesight to recover so that he could get a proper look at the being.

He was facing an elderly male with red protrusions above his eyebrows and in front of his ears which marked him as a Skagaran. Reed realized that the male was wearing an old badly fitting uniform which he could tell from the cloth that had not faded was once a rich purple colour.

He could not envisage any real threat from this creature that looked as if he would topple over if Reed were to nudge him slightly with his little finger. So he let his weapon drop to his side. The Skagaran lifted his hollowed and dark rimmed eyes to meet Reed's and they stared at each other with neither one apparently eager to make the next move. Then as he started to feel distinctly uncomfortable Reed broke eye contact and shifted his gaze to take in the large square room. There was a rumpled half made bed to one side that looked like it had been hurriedly vacated. While in the centre of the room there was a horseshoe console and a bank of monitors. The impressive array of lights that had temporarily blinded Reed had been set up in front of the console and was presumably a final defensive measure should an attacker reach this room.

A sudden movement from the Skagaran brought Reed's attention straight back to his host. The being had stepped closer to Reed and once he had realized that he had his attention the little Skagaran male started to grin hopefully up at him, showing off a set of chipped yellow teeth. Reed caught a strong whiff of body odour from the Skagaran which indicated a serious lack of personal hygiene. He had to work hard to try and maintain a neutral expression as the male started to speak a hesitant broken version of the standard language of Earth.

"I hap-py _you_ come. Wel-come Reed. I not have a pro-per name but if like call me Lead-er's son. You like my sec-ur-i-ty, yes?"

Startled by the fact the Skagaran knew his name Reed felt immediately at a disadvantage. The being seemed to have noticed his reaction and to be enjoying his discomfort based on the delighted grin he was displaying.

The Skagarans _Enterprise _had previously encountered in the Expense had taken many human prisoners from nineteenth century Earth to work as slave labour. So Reed presumed there must indeed be a connection between this male and the others they had encountered as this would explain the male's all be it limited knowledge of an Earth language.

The Skagaran continued, "I watch you-r vess-el, the_ En-ter-prise_, since it ar-riv-ed."

_And__ I bet you've been listening to us too, _Reed thought, wondering if that was how he had actually got his knowledge of their language while he hurriedly rewound through their time on the planet. He worried about just how much information the scrawny being with the weird moniker; _The_ _Leader's son, _had been able to discover. Reed's internal alarm system was jangling as he considered how compromised _Enterprise _could be.

"Are there others like you on the planet?" Reed asked carefully insuring that his question was as neutral as possible as he determined not to give any indication of his knowledge of Skagarans and their worrying tendency to obtain and enslave others.

"_What you th-ink_?" The being replied as he shot a quick glance at the open hatchway behind Reed.

Reed's automatic reaction was to speedily turn around and aim his phase pistol at the potential hostiles lurking at the entrance. After finding that there was no-one there he turned back to face the Leader's Son and clocked with annoyance that the Skagaran had an impish grin on his face. Reed groaned inwardly wondering how he was supposed to deal with a little old man who took such pleasure from a childish game. Then the next sentences from the _child_ changed Reed's perception once more to one of total disgust.

"Not all be-ings on _En-ter-prise…_ the same. A fe-male here who is diff-er-ent. She here be-fore with male like you. They touch in strange way, may be mat-ing? You like see?" He walked away surprisingly quickly, given his apparent frailty, to go and stand in front of the monitors and then he hurriedly beckoned to Reed to join him.

Reed was horrified as he realized that this strange creature could only be referring to Trip and T'Pol. He decided to stay where he was and made plain his displeasure by glaring at the Skagaran for inviting him to spy on his friends.

"No? I like you ex-plain what they do?"

When the Skagaran realized Reed was not going to move he shrugged his shoulders and came back to stand in front of him, "I have food, I find some-thing you like eat?"

Reed didn't even want to think about that offer; he had just noticed the source of what was the vilest smell of rotting vegetation he had ever had the misfortune to endure. A table at the right side of the entrance was cluttered with plates of partly eaten food in various stages of putrefaction.

Hastily and none to politely he declined the Skagaran's offer of sustenance, "No, not hungry at all!"

"Just be-ing friend-ly," The Skagaran said slowly sounding a little hurt as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip and scrutinized Reed as he rather obviously considered his next move.

"I show you some-thing, great help _En-ter-prise_… you speak to Cap-n Arch-er. I _need_ help and we can do trade _yes_!" He pleaded reaching out to tug at the sleeve of Reed's EV suit.

The Skagaran then about turned and started to walk purposely towards a closed hatch at the far end of the room.

Reed was taken aback by this appeal for help. The Skagaran had dropped all pretence and sounded really desperate. Although Reed would have preferred to have got as far away from this strange creature as possible, he tightened his grip on the phase pistol and followed after the Leader's Son.


	4. Chapter 4

**Communication**

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**Chapter Four**

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"Commander, your neural enzymes are elevated to a dangerous degree. You have suffered a severe trauma and must rest!"

T'Pol however paid no heed to Doctor Phlox's instructions and was already starting to lever her body off of the biobed as she muttered under her breath, "I must report for duty, I will be needed at my post."

T'Pol was so intent on her objective that she was shocked to find she was being pushed firmly back down onto the biobed. Normally she would have been able to shake off the Denobulan quite easily but her complete loss of emotional control had apparently compromised her physical strength as well.

She had decided to try and ignore the source of her pain, to see if focusing on her role as the ship's Science Officer would bring her some level of control which would enable her to function. Her forlorn hope being that the familiar actions and practical nature of her scientific work would help soothe her tortured psyche. What T'Pol realized as she gave up her attempt to return to her duties was that she had desperately wanted to be distracted from the fear of having to explore her broken mind. However as the tremours that had racked her body started to return and imprison her there, her unchecked thoughts and feelings were starting to run riot and threaten her sanity.

"Let me help you T'Pol." Phlox urged gently as he helped her back onto the biobed supporting her head until exhausted she give in to the evitable and released her body into the Doctor's care. Grimly he noted the marked disintegration of her appearance which reflected her deteriorating mental state. Her hair which was much longer than when she had been an officer of the Vulcan High Command lay in tangled clumps while her uniform was covered in grime and dust. Phlox was deeply affected by her condition and so it was with great sadness that he exercised his duty as the ship's medical officer, "Commander, you must remain under my care. I am formally removing you from duty on medical grounds and that will remain in force until I am satisfied that you are fit for duty. Do you understand?"

"I will go mad if I cannot stop the pain." T'Pol whispered in reply, the hopelessness of her situation clear to see even though she turned her face away from Phlox in a futile attempt to hide her tears which were an unwelcome physical manifestation from the agony of her loss.

Phlox observed her briefly until he could decide how best to proceed. Drawing on his previous dealings with T'Pol he determined that she would appreciate a direct approach so he began by stating, "I know that you shared a bond with Commander Tucker…"

Shocked T'Pol immediately reacted to the revelation that he knew about their intimate connection. She abruptly turned her head back to stare at Doctor Phlox; her concern to hide her emotional condition overridden by the discovery that another person might be able to comprehend what was happening to her. Along with this was the surprising and unexpectedly intense sense of pain at hearing her dead bond mate's name. As if by stating his name Phlox had made her loss more real for her.

"Please…do not say his name. I find I cannot face the reality that…I need to regain….my equilibrium before I can cope with…my loss."

Tears ran freely across T'Pol's cheeks to wet the pillow her head rested on while she stared up at the Doctor in complete despair. She then added in a lower whisper, "You will tell no-one about our bond."

Phlox felt deep concern at how hurt and broken she was. He quickly set about reassuring her, "You need not worry; your secret is safe with me. I will do all that I can to help you; if you wish to talk I will be here or I can ensure that you are not disturbed. However I think it would be best if you try to rest. I have heard that Vulcans are able to enter a healing trance… "

"I cannot Doctor, I have insufficient control to instigate such a trance."

"I see, as you know I normally prefer natural treatments. However I am extremely concerned that you will continue to deteriorate without intervention. I therefore purpose to administer a drug that will induce a medical coma, but only if you agree to this course of action."

In response T'Pol could only nod to give her agreement to his proposal that she be rendered chemically unconscious. She found his reasoning to be sound; the idea of being completely unaware of what had happened was something she craved. More than that though was the idea that shutting down her body for a period of time might help to heal her deeply scarred mind.

Phlox gave her right arm a gentle squeeze; she presumed the gesture was an attempt to offer comfort. Then he disappeared through the curtains that shielded her from the rest of Sick Bay. T'Pol closed her eyes and tried yet again to regain some meager level of control by focusing on the precise movements of the Doctor as he prepared the medicine that she hoped would bring her a temporary peace.

After he returned Phlox ensured that the curtains had swished shut behind him to maintain her privacy and he made ready to administer the dose, the hypospray clutched in his hand. However a nagging doubt in his mind stayed his administration of the procedure. Then T'Pol opened her eyes and stared accusingly at him indicating her impatience to receive the chemical release he had promised. Phlox knew what T'Pol needed was to rest but once he had rendered her unconscious she would be out of reach for at least twenty four hours. Regardless of the discomfort he felt about torturing her further he had to know if there was the slightest chance the Commander and by association Ensign Mayweather could still be alive. As gently as he could he posed the question that was bothering him, "T'Pol I am sorry but I need to know how you can be certain?"

He watched as T'Pol was forced to breathe deeply several times before summoning up the strength to speak, "I no longer sense his presence Doctor. As he was human…I believe our bond formed differently. Our link…was more… haphazard, hence…when the end came…the…break was not clean…a splintering…that left behind…a residue of terrifyingly strong…random feelings…and thoughts…from his dying moments."

Then she cried out as though she was reliving those terrifying moments again, her eyes screwed tightly shut against the pain.

"I am sorry my dear," Phlox exclaimed with deep sadness before he carefully formed the words that were a more appropriate offering to make to a Vulcan who had suffered such a deeply personal loss, "I grieve with thee."

T'Pol did not respond so caught up was she in her continuing internal struggle. So without further hesitation Phlox administered the medication and he stood watch until her body visibly relaxed and her breaths were deep and long. He then took precautions to ensure that her airway was mechanically protected and secured sensors to monitor her ongoing condition before he left her alone to sleep.

* * *

With a jolt Travis started his return journey to an extremely painful consciousness. His battered forehead was the focus for the soreness which then pulsed through his brain to crash into the rising feeling of nausea caused by his other injuries. As he opened his eyes he realized that his head was still resting on the hard metal of the Shuttlepod control panel and he knew that although he should try to sit up that would not improve the awfulness of his current situation. The sharpness of the raw pain confirmed this when Travis made his first attempt and he felt nothing but relief to lay his head back down on his metallic cushion while he contemplated another attempt. When he had steeled himself sufficiently to gingerly lift his head again Travis noted that the pitch darkness in the cabin could only mean that the pod systems and engine were all dead. And as his senses really began to kick in he also became aware of a worryingly incessant hissing sound as air vented from the pod.

Travis finally managed to push his aching body fully into a sitting position and he rested from his exertion leaning against the backrest of the pilot's seat. Then he gingerly explored his forehead and found there was a considerable amount of swelling. He continued the assessment of his injuries and ascertained that his left lower arm which was hanging limply at his side was definitely broken. To relieve his discomfort Travis gently cradled it to him supporting it as best he could with his right arm. Then slowly he turned his head towards the back of the pod. As if his mind was coming to in very gradual stages Travis suddenly registered the fact he had not been alone. He concentrated and remembered that his last memory of Trip was that he had been standing right behind his chair.

"Trip…Trip…" Travis called out; shocked at the rasping sound of his own voice and how much his lungs hurt from the effort needed to speak. There was already a marked lack of breathable air in the pod which was definitely not a good sign. Travis also noticed that the pod appeared in a level position on a flat surface although if that was the case it was very strange given his last memories of being tossed around in the anomaly. He knew that if they stayed there they were both going to die so Travis decided that the very least he could do was to locate Trip and then try and find a way of getting out of this mess. He carefully edged off from his seat and stood up leaning his body on the side of the pod. Then Travis had to duck down to avoid banging his already tender head on the sloping roof.

However just as he was starting to inch himself forward something suddenly slammed up against the side of the pod with such force it rocked violently and threw Travis backwards. His body crashed into the edge of the control panel and as he sat winded and in extreme agony on the floor beside his seat Travis heard a low moan coming from the rear of the pod. _At least I know he's alive _Travis thought with relief as he managed to gulp in a mouthful of the remaining air.

Then a series of vivid red lights flashed through the darkness briefly illuminating the chaos inside. Horrified Travis realized that the emergency release mechanism for the pod's side hatch had been activated which meant something or someone was attempting to gain access. Although the frightened thudding of his adrenalin fueled heart made Travis dizzy it also helped him to scramble up again to an almost standing position in the cramped forward section of the pod. Regardless of his condition Travis desperately wanted to protect Trip and himself from whatever was on the other side of the hatch.

As he staggered forward the hatch wildly swung open and he was met by a surge of air which filled his starved lungs and gave him a boost of new energy. Light was also entering the cabin from the open hatch and he rushed forward to see that there was a flexible tunnel leading from the opening it was firmly clamped around. The ridged tunnel swayed slightly in the aftermath of its collusion with the pod but there was no sign of any living being inside. In the muted light that penetrated from a source outside the tunnel Travis could make out Trip's body which lay at a crazy angle across a jumble of mining equipment and one of the containers of Trellium ore.

He worked quickly to lift off the smaller pieces of equipment that had come to rest on top of the Commander. Then he had to rest leaning back on his hunches and breathing in great gulps of air as his body shook with the shock his efforts had inflicted on him. While he recovered Travis kept Trip in his sights, concern growing at his unresponsiveness. Once the shaking and dizziness had passed he leaned forward and picked up Trip's closest arm and felt for a wrist pulse.

Afterwards when he had gently laid the arm back down on the floor of the pod Travis knew that the weak and irregular flutter of life he had felt was an indication of just how seriously injured Trip was. He like all Starfleet cadets had attended a basic first aid course although he had already had first hand knowledge of the subject while growing up as a space boomer on an interstellar cargo freighter. As a result Travis understood only too well that manhandling Trip out of the pod and along the tunnel could only make his obviously serious condition much worse.

However Travis was also only too aware that they could not remain where they were. He remembered that the pod carried a basic first aid kit and quickly located it, strapped to the inside of a storage box under the rear seats. Then after clicking the container open one handed he located an adjustable arm sling which had been designed for an injured person to put on themselves. The last time he had done this it had been a practice session when he had had the use of both of his arms and the process had been quick and easy. This time Travis had to grin and bare the pain while he adjusted the sling and then activate the control that drew in compressed air to cushion and support his broken arm as much as possible.

He then started running his free hand over Trip's prone body to assess what injuries he had sustained. It was fairly obvious that his right leg was fractured in several places from the position the leg was lying in. Travis suspected that there were also several broken ribs but the symptom that continued to cause him most concern was Trip's lack of responsiveness. He got a small torch out of the first aid kit and switching it on had to grasp it tightly between his teeth as he examined Trip's eyes, lifting one lid after the other while he swung the light across looking for a reaction. He registered that one pupil was definitely larger than the other which to Travis meant only one thing; Trip had incurred a serious injury to his brain. He leant back dropping the still lit torch into his lap as he considered what he had detected. Then balancing the torch on the seat behind him Travis used the light to search through the first aid kit for what he needed to prepare Trip before attempting to move him.

He found the leg support first in a small vacuum packed package. He grabbed the zipper tag in his teeth and opened it pulling out the folded up material which as it was released magically widened and lengthened until it was long enough to do its job. As Travis shuffled down to hook a strap around Trip's boot he realized that his heart was hammering way too fast due to all of his hard work and he had to stop for a moment until the shivers that were a symptom of the shock he was suffering from had again lessened. Then he was able to slide the shiny material of the support under Trip's broken leg and once it was activated sit back, resting for a moment while the support molded itself up and around the leg, straightening and then cushioning it in layer of air. Finally Travis fitted a brace around Trip's neck and he was as ready as he could be for the next stage of the operation.

Taking several deep breaths he ignored his own pain and hooked his good arm under Trip's right shoulder and started to pull him towards the hatchway. As he worked the agony from his left arm became more intense but Travis gritted his teeth and managed through sheer force of will to move Trip so that he was propped up by the hatchway. Travis then found a way to lift Trip onto the ledge by threading his arm around Trip's waist and taking his friend's dead weight on his chest. Then there was no other way but to let him fall back into the tunnel and Travis could only hope that the fabric that covered the regularly spaced rings that concertinaed as the air billowed through would provide a soft landing. With a final super human effort Travis kept held of Trip's torso and leaned as far forward as he was able until he could no longer bare the agony of his own injuries and had to let go. He then stumbled back into the pod doubled over in agony and dry heaving while the undulating motion of the tunnel claimed Trip with his legs disappearing after his body into the tunnel. Travis cried out in pain, anger and frustration as through the sling he cradled his broken and battered arm, tears rolling freely down his cheeks while he fought to find the energy not to give up there and then.

When he staggered back to the hatch he saw that Trip's unconscious form was floating gently away as if he was being carried on choppy waves towards a dark circular opening. Travis realized he needed to move fast to catch up, so he quickly perched on the hatchway and then fell forward onto his knees stretching his good arm out to help soften his landing. The material bent under his weight then pushed back against him lifting his body slightly up from the surface. He felt lighter as though he was moving through a very low gravity field. Travis reached out with his right arm and grabbing hold of one of the rings through the material easily pulled his body along the tunnel. He soon reached and overtook Trip so that he could get a hold of his shoulder and pull him along behind him.

When Travis reached the open round hatchway he peered intently into the darkness. Through the gloom he could just make out that there was about a meter and a half drop to the ground. He swung his legs over the edge and landed on the ground which was also cushioned by the lower gravity he had felt in the tunnel. Travis then found himself in a small cube shaped room with metallic walls which he presumed to be an airlock. As Trip's head started to appear over the top of the entrance Travis grabbed hold of him to control his descent while Trip's own weight tipped his body down into the airlock. Travis guided him to the floor as gently as he could manage as the hatch started to close behind them, the mechanism making a hissing sound. Travis saw the material of the tunnel ripple and billow in towards them as the hatch swung to. Then once the hatch had formed an airtight seal Travis felt a whirling vibration as the tunnel was retracted into the outer wall against which he was resting.

Drawn by the light and a faint mechanical noise coming from outside Travis peered through a small viewing port in the centre of the hatch. He could clearly see Shuttlepod One, or to be more precise her battered hull resting on a flat metallic platform. A mechanical arm was positioned above the crippled craft and attached to the end of the arm was a cutting instrument which had a sharp serrated edge. It had already sliced off the top half of the pod and that lay discarded close by. He watched as another branch of the arm rose up to reveal a pincers attachment which was then used to peel back the metallic sides of the craft as easily as if they were made of paper. Then horrified by the thought that not so long ago they had been inside the craft he saw the pincers widen and reach down into the hull and emerge with one of the containers of Trellium D in its grip. Travis followed the journey of the container as it was lifted clear until it disappeared behind the landing bay. His eyes strayed to the massive column of bright pulsating light running across his view. It then dawned on him that somehow Trip and he had found themselves trapped inside one of the spheres which had been built by beings from the future to change the very nature of the Expanse.

* * *

The sun was setting as Reed and the Skagaran emerged at the foot of the massive cliff face that was the favourite climbing obsession of Travis and his MACO friends. Finally Reed felt that it was safe enough to remove the restrictive EV helmet he had been wearing for most of the day. He was aware that the annoying being was looking up at him expectantly. However he tried to ignore him as he continued to nurse the mother and father of all tension headaches. Reed felt relieved to finally be back in the fresh air and he leaned against the rough rocky surface of the cliff face for a moment to rest. His legs ached from the exertion of walking around for so long in an EV suit which was not designed for these conditions. He was already anticipating the pleasure of a very long cleansing shower which would be his first priority once he got back to the peace and solitude of his quarters.

The Skagaran that went by the name of "The Leader's Son" could barely contain his excitement to the extent he started doing what looked to Reed to be a bizarre Irish jig as he squealed, "How please will be Cap-n _Ent-er-prise_. I _sure_ he grant my re-quest. _He _help-s me!"

Reed found he had some difficulty in repressing the strong desire to strangle his peculiar companion. Every jerky movement and each excited word spoken inflicted more pain on his already strained mind. While the Skagaran continued to dart around in front of him and peer constantly up at the sky with what appeared to be increasing anxiety Reed chose to take in his surroundings. The forest which was really the Skagaran's power grid was straight in front and the sheer cliffs were right behind him. The being had promised that a pod would be able to pick them up but Reed was rather puzzled as to how exactly that could happen. It looked to him as though the rendezvous would have to take place beyond the forest of power conduits and that would be one hell of a walk in his suit. Finally Reed decided to turn his full attention towards the little skipping live wire and ask him for an answer, "Where exactly is the nearest landing area big enough for a shuttlepod to land?"

The being stopped in his tracks and shouted back at Reed in an impatient and petulant voice, "Get trans-port come here!"

Reed could only stare back at the Skagaran who more and more reminded him of a small child who always expected to get his own way. It was obvious that one of them was missing the rather large hole in this plan and Reed was damned sure that it wasn't him.

"There's nowhere close for them to land…that is unless you know something I don't?" Reed said slowly through gritted teeth, not bothering to hide his exasperation.

"At con-trol room I lift for-ce field and open gr-ound ap-pear." The Skagaran confidently replied and then all at once his bounce and optimism visibly drained away. In fact Reed had never seen someone go from one extreme of emotion to another that quickly before as he stared fixedly and in total disbelief at the crestfallen Skagaran. Then he felt his heart sink as he saw the Leader's Son shoot him a furtive sideways glance, before quietly admitting, "But now _only_ can go back there the way you came."

At this Reed could only glare at this most idiotic of aliens as he realized that this extremely trying experience was far from over. Then when he managed to speak his words were laced with a deep sarcasm that reflected his mood, "And _why_ didn't it occur to you to disengage the force field before we went through it?"

The being shot Reed a reproachful look and his chin wobbled as tears started to form in his eyes, "I not been out-side for…for long time." And sniffling he wiped away a tear drop that was about to drip from the end of his nose. "I for-got," he continued as with his head bowed and obviously completely miserable he seemed to be engrossed in his over sized boots while his tears fell to the earth.

Reed was too tired and weary to feel the slightest bit of compassion for the Skagaran who had got them into this ridiculous situation and who was continuing to sound very sorry for himself as he mumbled, "I for-got my fath-er, im-port-ant words, make sure leave man in con-trol room, I sor-ry my fath-er…sor-ry."

They were going to have to walk through the forest to get to the nearest open ground and as Reed stared at it he could already feel the discomfort of forcing his body to turn and twist through that maze. Then he noticed that the Skagaran had stopped crying and was instead dolefully staring in Reed's direction, his eyes red rimmed and still moist.

"I'll contact the Captain to let him know where to meet us." Reed announced, having come to terms with his situation. He retrieved and then activated his communicator, "Lieutenant Reed to Captain Archer…Captain?"

After a further silence Reed was surprised to hear the voice of Major Hayes respond in that tone which he always classified as having a distinctly smug sound to it, "Lieutenant Reed, please advise what your status is and provide your current position."

Reed immediately rallied to ensure his voice did not give away a hint of his extreme exhaustion to his rival as he stated firmly, "To the northeast of your position at the foot of the cliff face behind the forested area. I can advise that I am unharmed and I have company with me; an elderly male who is unarmed and does not pose a threat. Is Captain Archer with you?"

There was a pause in which Reed presumed that the Major was digesting the news that the planet was not actually uninhabited. Then Reed wondered what Hayes would make of the Skagaran and he flushed was embarrassment that he had used the word "threat" when describing this pathetic creature.

"He and Commander T'Pol had to return to the ship, _Enterprise_ has left orbit."

The news shocked Reed and he wanted to know what had happened while also being aware that anxious ears were listening into their conversation. The Skagaran was very concerned at the news that _Enterprise;_ which he saw as his ticket away from the planet, had left. Reed decided not to ask for an explanation and instead let Hayes know when to expect them back at the warehouse, "We'd better start walking then, should be with you in approximately two hours, Reed out."


	5. Chapter 5

**Communication**

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* * *

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**Chapter ****5**

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* * *

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Archer stood by his command chair aware of the bundles of exposed cabling that dangled dangerously close to his head from the ceiling above. The engineering maintenance crews had been interrupted in their work by the general order to leave the docking station. There were also panels neatly stacked around the bridge which revealed the inner workings of the ship for the bridge crew to negotiate. However the chaotic appearance of the bridge was deceptive as the enforced stop to make necessary repairs meant that _Enterprise _was in better condition than she had been for a long while.

The subtle vibration of the Warp engines that he could feel running through the metallic floor should have been sustenance for his soul and on any another occasion Archer would simply have enjoyed the fact _Enterprise_ was under way. His pride in this ship, the result of his father's dream, was at its height when it was at its most elegant: in motion. However all he had to do was look over at the science, engineering, tactical and helm stations which were manned by crew other than his primary watch, and his hope for their mission was gone.

Lieutenant Rae was manning the science station. T'Pol had commended her work to him recently and Archer wanted her to live up to the rarely given and therefore highly valued Vulcan praise by locating Shuttlepod One and its occupants. He maintained his silent vigil while trying to control his impatience which made it feel like an eternity before Rae finally made the announcement he had been waiting for.

"Captain we're approaching the outer edge of the anomaly. "

Immediately Archer snapped into action and ordered that the Helmsman bring _Enterprise_ to a dead stop. He glanced across at Hoshi and recognized his own feelings in her face which was etched with fear and apprehension, as he issued the order, "On screen Hoshi, let's take a look."

She reacted to his order with a silent nod and then activated the viewing screen.

The terrifying phenomenon was then revealed to the bridge crew and they stood in shocked silence as the horror unfolded in front of them. Asteroids were being thrown around as though they were beach balls being tossed by a child. While smaller rocks crashed into each other and the resultant momentum pushed them into further brutal collusions. Chunks of broken off debris from the multiple crashes shot away from the damaged rocks and then were swallowed by the swirling mass.

Lieutenant Rae had been the only one to have the presence of mind to commence her work and start a detailed scan of the anomaly field. As he tore his eyes away from the scene of terrifyingly powerful destruction Archer inwardly applauded her presence of mind. He had been too involved in mourning his lost friends simply on the basis of what he and the rest of the bridge crew were watching. Although with the hard evidence presented to him Archer could not avoid the cruel fact that any craft unfortunate to be caught in the vortex would not have stood a chance.

"Captain the anomaly is closing quickly on our position and my attempt to scan the area is failing to penetrate beyond the outer edges." Rae reported in a calm matter of fact way.

He looked over at the science station and was extremely disappointed to see that Rae instead of finding some way of boosting the strength of the scans had switched her attention to him. He knew that she was waiting for him to order their retreat while he struggled with his desperate need to remain in case Trip and Travis had managed to break free from the swirling mass. He could picture them out there somewhere waiting for help to arrive. Then he thought, _Logic be damned,_ as he decided he was not ready to accept that this mission was pointless just yet.

He knew that T'Pol would never have given up as easily as Rae had just done as he strode over to the science station to view the scans himself. Then Hoshi attracted his attention by raising her hand and he noticed that she was listening intently to something through her earpiece. He hardly dared to believe this could be the good news he was seeking as he waited with as much patience as he could muster.

A palpable sense of excitement surged through the bridge crew after one of them pointed at the screen and shouted out, "Look there!"

Eagerly Archer searched the area that the crewman had indicated and for an instant he glimpsed an object shaped like a massive silvery grey spearhead with long sweeping lines. It was a beautiful vessel waiting its turn to be smashed to smithereens by the fast flowing sea of debris. Then it disappeared from sight behind a large asteroid though the brief sighting was enough for Archer to know that it wasn't Shuttlepod One.

"Sir, I'm picking up an automated distress beacon from the ship." Hoshi explained, unable to hide the sorrow from her voice that they hadn't found Trip and Travis.

To her credit Lieutenant Rae was back working at her station. Archer waited as she completed the analysis of the data she had managed to gather while the vessel had been in the outer limits of the disturbance.

"Captain, my scans have located three very weak bio-signs on the vessel. However I must caution that the outer edge of the anomaly will reach our position in just over two minutes."

Archer could just about follow the flickering light on the science monitor which showed the position of the vessel as it weaved erratically through the anomaly.

"Lieutenant, could the transporter be used to beam them on board?"

"Sir, I would recommend that option only if the vessel moves to the outer edge of the anomaly. There's too much interference for us to get a complete lock on them if the ship stays where it is."

Archer leant forward and activated the science station comm.

"Lieutenant Hess, report to the Transporter Chamber immediately and stand by to engage on my mark."

Thirty seconds later Hess confirmed she was in position and Rae forwarded the data she had collected to her. Archer continued to watch the blip on the monitor flicker and then fade as it moved further away from them. He was also conscious of _Enterprise's_ precarious position and that soon time would be against them and he would have to give the order to leave those poor beings to their fate.

Suddenly the anomaly spat the vessel violently towards the outer edge and the signal became a solid dot on the screen. Archer, who was hunched over the comm control waiting for just that piece of luck, moved quickly activating the link and shouting out the command to Hess, "Engage now!"

Then everything seemed to slow down as all eyes were on the closing threat swirling towards them. It took fifteen long seconds before Hess was able to report back, "Sir, I've got all of them; Phlox is already on his way with a medical team."

"Helm, reverse full speed impulse drive," Archer instructed as he went back to his command chair. A shudder ran through the ship as the outer harbinger winds reached them. _Enterprise_ had started its retreat just in time. Archer was able to watch in grim fascination as for a last time the elegant vessel sat proud in the center of the viewing screen before it was sucked into the path of a massive pitted asteroid. The resultant impact was quick and brutal.

* * *

Captain Archer's ship wide announcement that Commander Tucker and Ensign Mayweather were missing presumed dead had reverberated around _Enterprise. _Willis had been in main Engineering at the time and the despairing shock on the crew's faces as they stood transfixed by the news had been a fitting tribute to how much the Commander meant to them.

When Willis walked through the corridors afterwards it felt as though the physical temperature of the ship had been lowered along with the morale of every crew member that passed him by. Not one of them acknowledged him and Willis understanding their need for solitude returned the favour. He found that he too needed to be left alone with the profound sadness he was feeling.

Although it was tempting for Willis to retreat to his quarters as soon as his shift had ended instead he went to find Masaro. He had convinced Masaro that they needed to take their time and tread carefully when approaching people likely to be sympathetic to their plan. However after the terrible loss _Enterprise _had suffered he was worried how Masaro, who had a tendency to be unpredictable, would react. He remained convinced that their plan to go to Earth was the best course of action and he knew the Ensign who was a hothead could easily endanger their plan.

Willis finally located Masaro in the deserted Mess Hall. He was hunched over a dish of pasta and picking idly at it with his fork. Willis got himself a drink of water and without requesting permission from the young Ensign pulled out a chair and sat down across from him.

Masaro lifted his head slowly from his close examination of the congealing plate of food and greeted Willis with a brief nod.

Willis took care to word his opening remark carefully to help him gauge what was on Masaro's mind, although when he spoke it was with true feeling, "_Enterprise _has lost two fine men today; all of the crew are in mourning."

The young man continued to play with his food for a moment longer before responding, "I had a lot of time for the Commander as an Engineer. However he should have been more careful in his inter-species relationships, at best he was very naïve."

Willis was puzzled by Masaro's comment while also considering that it did not show the Commander the respect he deserved. He wondered if Masaro was referring to the rumours about Commander Tucker's alleged dalliances with a number of alien females including Commander T'Pol. It disgusted him if it was the case that Masaro was referring to idle gossip at a time like this and he gave full vent to his anger, "With all _due_ respect Sir, _you_ shouldn't believe everything you hear on the ship grapevine!"

For his insubordination Willis was rewarded with a look of scorn from the Ensign. However it was instantly forgotten by Masaro as he pushed his plate to the side and leant conspiratorially towards Willis and whispered in a low voice, "Are you aware how few command officers are currently on duty or even on the ship? Lieutenant Reed and Major Hayes are on the planet and the Vulcan is in the Sick Bay. I heard that she has been declared _medically_ unfit for duty. The Captain is shut away in his ready room leaving Ensign Hoshi as the senior bridge officer on duty!"

With sickening clarity Willis could already see exactly where this discussion was heading. The idiot wanted to ruin all of their careful planning by trying to take control of the ship on their own, just the two of them.

This was going to end badly if he couldn't talk some sense into Masaro. He managed to keep his tone measured as he spelt out his objections, "Listen _very _carefully to me, this is not the right time. The mood on the ship is wrong; there's no way in hell that we would get support from the crew. We need more time; I've only just started to sound out potential supporters. We go now and all we will achieve is a summary court marital and then if we are lucky a very long incarceration in the brig."

"Yes my friend, but if we wait too long it will be _too_ late. The Captain saved three aliens from a stricken vessel today. We were already short of man power before we lost two more men today. Do you really think the Captain is going to pass on help from three grateful aliens? Do you really want to wake up one day to find that Humans are the minority on this ship? Then the _Enterprise_ will be trapped in the Expanse and we will have missed our only real chance to stop the Xindi attack."

Confused by the bizarre conclusions Masaro had managed to reach based on the Captain's humanitarian act Willis stared blankly back at Masaro for a moment. He then decided that the common sense approach was the simplest tack for him to use, "Look, we know nothing about these aliens, all they'll probably want is safe passage back to their own home world."

Unfortunately his reasoning did not have the desired effect as Masaro became more agitated repeatedly jabbing his fork against the table top with such force he bent the prongs. He forgot about secrecy as he angrily spat out, "Whatever happens we know the Captain will not consult his crew, he only ever listens to his _Vulcan_ first officer!"

Willis hurriedly signaled for Masaro to be quiet as the last thing they needed was for someone to walk into the Mess Room while he was in the middle of tirade. It was time for him to do some straight talking, "There _will _be another opportunity for us to act. I am telling you that not one person sympathetic to our cause will have the stomach for this now, I know I don't."

Masaro's face was set hard in anger as he abruptly tossed the damaged fork on to the plate of cold pasta and pushed his chair back. He then stormed off out of the Mess Room without saying another word.

As he stared after the young fool Willis was reminded of his youngest daughter's toddler tantrums when she didn't get her own way. This was the first time that he wished Masaro's plan to go home did not make so much sense because he found he did not like him at all. With a weary shake of his head Willis picked up his glass of water and walked out of the Mess Room knowing that at least he had stopped Masaro from making a terrible error of judgment.

* * *

Travis groaned which only increased his discomfort as his tongue wrenched itself from the bone dry roof of his mouth. He rolled onto his back disoriented by the pitch darkness and icy coldness that surrounded him as his awakening mind longed for a warm and comfortable bunk on _Enterprise_. Travis had no way of knowing how long he had been lying on the floor. However his achingly stiff body and the chilling cold that had managed to permeate through the fabric of his EV suit and deep into his core indicated that it must have been quite a while.

He knew his body couldn't take much more punishment but his first priority had to be to look after Trip who was in a much worse state than him. Very gingerly Travis forced himself first to sit up and then to get up onto his knees on the hard floor. Then still on his knees he shuffled towards the only sound he could hear in what could potentially become their tomb. Homing in on the gentle rhythmic moans that accompanied Trip's every shallow breath until he made contact with a fabric that felt soft to the touch and reminded him of suede leather. The single memory he had of the room beyond the airlock then made sense of what he was touching. The room had been briefly illuminated after the airlock had opened to let in muted light from the sphere via viewing port on the external hatch. That was when he had seen the lone piece of furniture in the anteroom; a low couch placed in the far corner. The room had been plunged into darkness once the airlock had been resealed but he still managed to drag and then lift Trip onto the couch. That had been his last act before his body had been forced to surrender to exhaustion so deep and powerful it had blocked out his physical pain.

Travis leant across the couch to check on Trip. He grasped hold of an arm and was immediately heartened to hear Trip attempt to speak out. Although it sounded like rambling nonsense until Travis moved in closer and was able to make sense of the different sounds. Then he became shocked and extremely concerned about his friend's condition as it he understood that Trip was obsessed about Commander T'Pol and was pleading for her to come back to him.

With his voice rasping from a lack of lubrication, Travis tried to get his attention.

"Trip…can you hear me!"

Unfortunately this only had the effect of increasing Trip's attempts to contact the Vulcan Science Officer, as he struggled to gather what strength he could muster to whisper plaintively, "T'Pol…T'Pol, can't reach you, where are you!"

Travis was frightened by what he considered to be Trip's delirium which he surmised was a symptom that showed his brain injury was worsening. Then he cursed his stupidity for forgetting to bring the first aid kit with them as he desperately tried to reach out to him again, "T'Pol isn't here Trip. We are inside a sphere, don't ask me how we got here but it's just you and me, Travis. You're badly injured so I'm going to get help. Do you understand, _can_ you hear me?"

In response his voice gradually reducing to a breathy low whisper which faded away with each syllable Trip fought desperately to communicate with one person who was definitely not there, "Please T'Pol…don't…leave me…alone."

Having tired himself out after all the effort required to speak, Trip slipped back into an unconscious state deep enough to silence the regular groans that he had been emitting.

It then occurred to Travis that something or someone had gone to the trouble of saving them before the pod had been dismantled. He decided to appeal directly to their benefactor for help. He dragged himself to his feet using the wall beside to the couch as leverage. Then fighting against waves of pain and nausea he pushed himself away from the wall and took a few careful steps into the darkness. Travis took a deep breath and then directed his voice into the void, as he shouted out, "I would like to thank you for your help but we need more than breathable air to survive."

His voice echoed around the building that enclosed them without generating any response. Although he could already feel his frustration mounting Travis took another breath of the icy air into his lungs and continued to plead, "I'm _worried _about my friend; he's badly injured. Do you have medical supplies, a doctor, anything, someone who can help us, _please_?"

The continuing silence that greeted him was so deafening he knew that it would be pointless to add that it was freezing cold and pitch dark never mind that they would also need sustenance.

Having given up on appealing to the thin air their saviour had disappeared into Travis decided he would have to find help for himself. He had to move slowly and cautiously, his good arm stretched out into the inky darkness that was so intense trying to stare into it made his eyes sting with discomfort. His fingers made the first contact with the wall at the other side of the room and then he felt his way along it until he located an opening that led into the next room.

He still had to use the wall in the new room as a guide as he shuffled along until he came to a corner. He explored the surface of the wall at right angles to the first locating a seam that indicated the presence of a doorway. Then his fingers made contact with a metallic panel which had a ridged surface and at its centre a handle that was hanging loosely from its fitments. Travis gave the panel an exploratory nudge and it gave slightly to reveal a faint trickle of light which crept through the narrow opening to cast eerie shadows in the room behind him. He was aware his heart was pounding with an adrenalin induced fear of the unknown and Travis felt as though he was about to faint. He had to lean back against the wall until he managed to get a grip on his emotions and his powerful imaginings of what could be beyond the door.

Once he had convinced himself there really was no other choice but for him to go on, Travis stood in front of the hatch and aimed a kick at it. The hatch swung open until it crashed against the inside wall and then ricocheted back only to be halted by its base scraping against the floor. It was left held in place at a crazy angle supported by a solitary hinge. As the noise his actions had caused echoed away and a deathly hush descended once more Travis gingerly stepped through the hatchway. He saw that the light came from two lines of narrow strips inset into the floor which ran like a track down the middle of a narrow room. They gave out just enough illumination for him to see that there were bunk beds running along both sides of the room.

Travis immediately picked up on a strange blood curdling atmosphere in this place although he could not explain why it was affecting him in that way. Either there had been violence committed of such ferocity it had seeped into the very fabric of the room or else his imagination was getting the better of him. Travis was certainly very nervous looking around for any sign of movement as he started walk up the centre passageway towards a further room; the entrance of which was raised off from the floor. Then he came to a stop at the foot of the five rung sloping ladder that he would need to climb to reach the entrance. As he considered how best to traverse the ladder, Travis noticed that there was a metallic hatch lying at a haphazard angle on the floor beside him. The uppermost side had been damaged by what could only have been a powerful explosion; the surface was warped and the edges tattered, torn and blackened like burnt paper.

Pushing his concerns to the back of his mind Travis balanced precariously with only one useful arm to help him stay on the ladder. He awkwardly half fell through the entrance snagging his EV suit against the ragged edge of the hatchway in the process. He had ripped the outer fabric of his suit but that was of little consequence given that his presence seemed to have fully activated the room's lighting system. A large opaque disk which was inset into the middle of the ceiling was bathing him in a soft yellow glow as he took in his surroundings and realized that he must be in the control center. Travis thought that his luck had finally turned as he started to examine the computer stations even though none of them appeared to be active.

He continued to look for signs of a working console surmising that it would be the one controlling the basic life support that was in place at that moment. However he knew that this was really a job for Trip as he desperately tried to get on the task at hand and ignore the growing pain from his injuries.

Then wearily Travis lifted his hand to rub his sore eyes hoping that would help him concentrate. Suddenly a blinding flash of white light filled the room and for an instant he felt as though he had been picked up off the floor and was floating in mid air and then there was nothing as his mind descended into darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Communication**

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* * *

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**Chapter 6**

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* * *

**

A tired and emotionally spent Captain Archer emerged from the Shuttlepod to take in his surroundings as Reed rushed up to greet him and blurted out, "Any news…"

Archer simply shook his head; it was a gesture much more profound than any words he could have used to express his despair. However he was still able to register that Reed was back in uniform and looked none the worse for his recent adventure. Archer had to resist the urge to pull the reticent Lieutenant into a bear hug, knowing that such an open display of emotion would simply embarrass the Englishman. Although he did choose to express his relief that Reed had not come to harm, "It's good to see you're okay, Malcolm."

There followed an awkward moment in which Reed tried and failed to come up with an appropriate response. He had served long enough with the captain to be able to read the signs that he had lost all hope for their missing friends. Reed knew that he wasn't ready to accept that option just yet, "With all due respect Sir, Trip and Travis are both very resourceful. I'm not going to give up on them until we find irrefutable evidence that their pod was caught in the anomaly field."

In response Archer could only silently regard Reed until he became aware that he was close to loosing control of his emotions and then he was forced to walk away. He went to the large opening at the outer edge of the massive hangar bay which had previously been hidden behind the cliff face. Archer fought against the tears that threatened to overwhelm him as he looked out at the changed landscape. A wide avenue had been opened up through the centre of the solar power field which they had previously thought was a forest. He had been piloting the Shuttlepod, using the flight plan provided by the Skagaran, on a low heading towards the cliff face when the runway had magically revealed itself. It had been a heart in the mouth moment as he had placed his trust and life in the hands of a stranger and headed straight for the first row of solar poles that masqueraded as trees. They had fallen out of the way at the very last second just before he was about to make a probably suicidal maneuver to avoid crashing into them. Then the cliff face had opened up to reveal the hangar bay that he was currently standing in. The flattened fake trees still lay on the earth cleverly slotted in between the ones that stood tall and untouched as if a tornado had smashed a very precise path through them. Archer could only shake his head in wonder at yet another bizarre discovery that this planet had yielded. Then his tired mind remembered why he was there, "Where's your friend?"

Reed came forward to join him and his disgust was clearly evident from his reply, _"Friend_ is definitely not the term I would use." Then he moved closer to Archer and lowered his voice to a whisper, "Don't trust him Sir, he knows too much about us already. He as good as admitted that he has been listening into our conversations and he isn't giving out any information about himself, not even his real name or that he is a Skagaran."

Archer followed Reed's example by whispering back at him, "Where is he now, I thought he was very keen to meet me?"

"Ah, that's an interesting story Sir!"

Reed couldn't resist a chortle and then in a normal voice, as if he hoped that he would be overheard, Reed recounted the being's error the previous day when he had led Reed through the force field that protected the entrance to the Landing Bay without deactivating it, meaning that he had to go via the old warehouse to return to his own command centre.

"…so that he could do all of this from there today," Reed finished gesturing at the runway. "No doubt he's hurrying to meet you as we speak! And you _really_ do need to see what he showed me Sir."

"Any idea what he wants…?" Archer's voice trailed away as a noise behind them attracted his attention and he got his first glimpse of the being emerging from a hatchway some distance away from them. The Skagaran stood for an instant to get his bearings and as soon as he spotted Archer he started towards him as fast as he could lift one rickety leg in front of the other. As he came closer Archer was able to take in the Skagaran's shabby ill-fitting uniform and unkempt features. He turned to exchange a look with Reed and seeing that the Lieutenant had adopted a neutral expression followed suit, determining there and then not to give out any more information than he needed to.

As soon as the Skagaran reached them he made a beeline for Archer even though he was panting heavily from the obviously unaccustomed exercise, "Cap'n Arch-er, pleas-ed, at last to meet!"

He then looked up at Archer, his grin wide enough to show off a set of particularly grimy teeth. There was sweat trickling down his face and a foul smell of body odour emitting from him that Archer was sure would be completely overpowering in a confined area.

_And Vulcans think humans smell bad, at least we take regular showers! _Archer thought as he struggled to keep his face straight so as not to reveal the extent of his revulsion at the pitiful state of the Skagaran. Realizing that the little being was looking expectantly at him, Archer got straight to the point, "I have been told that you have something I need to see?"

"Yes, Yes I do, but im-port-ant you a-gree to hel-p me!" the being haltingly replied and then he cocked his head to one side in the same way Porthos did when he was begging for another piece of forbidden cheese. Then without bothering to wait for the requested assurance he about turned and started to walk away, issuing a terse instruction as he went, "Fol-low, pl-ease!"

On reaching a narrow metallic hatchway which was situated across from where they were standing, his first action was to reach up to a small box on the rocky surface of the wall next to it. Archer was bemused to see that after he had flicked open the cover, the being had to stretch up on his tiptoes to reach the controls. He then managed to key in a particularly long code while he tottered around on his spindly legs, hitting the buttons very deliberately with his fingers which shook from the unaccustomed effort. After he had completed this task and the unlocked hatch swung open he turned round to look at Archer, another huge happy smile on his face. The being waved to beckon them to follow him and then he disappeared through the entrance way.

Archer went first, stepping over the rim of the hatchway as the lighting system was just starting to kick in. The vivid flashes of brilliant light as the array powered up gave him tantalizing glimpses of a vast space crowded with mysterious objects. Once the pyrotechnic display had ceased and the area was bathed in brilliant white light Archer found it difficult to take in the sheer size of the treasure trove laid out before him.

Reed who was armed with his prior knowledge of the vast storage area had already moved off to explore something that had attracted his attention. Archer remained glued to the spot as he took in this store room which was on a scale he had never seen before. Everywhere he looked there were dazzling displays of all kinds of unusual technology and machinery. Metallic and clear panels, plastic parts, coils of wire and conduits all neatly piled high on floor to ceiling shelves. Computer components large and small, engine parts, hull casings of all sizes and shapes, the smaller ones also stacked on shelving units that stretched into the distance.

He had already started to walk down the main aisle when he heard the hum of an engine coming up fast on his position. He turned to see the Skagaran at the controls of a low two seated hover vehicle. When the being had caught up with him the Skagaran leaned over to open the door on the passenger side of the vehicle. Archer decided he had no alternative but to accept the offer of a lift even though it was with great difficulty that he managed to clamber into the small seat.

"You like what I show to you?" the Skagaran enquired, his excitement evident in his even more muddled attempt to speak Archer's language.

A simple nod of his head was all Archer was able to give in response but that seemed enough to satisfy his small companion. His mind was far to occupied taking in the immensity of the place to make any attempt at small talk.

After a good ten minutes the Skagaran brought the vehicle to a halt at a work space situated between the seemingly endless rows of shelving units. There were two banks of narrow work benches which were strewn with rusting debris and between them there was a workstation hub comprising of six computer terminals.

Archer prized himself out from the cramped vehicle and walked over to a series of large curved metallic plates stacked against the wall that had caught his eye. He noticed that there were diagrams and writing in a language he did not recognize displayed on a number of the plates. Archer deduced that he was looking at part of the hull plating from a disassembled vessel. He decided that the space dock orbiting the planet would make sense if this was a facility to dismantle old starships in order to salvage anything of value.

The Skagaran distracted him from his deliberations by tugging impatiently at his sleeve while pointing at a prize he was obviously desperate for Archer to see.

He looked over in the direction the little male was pointing and there on the shelves directly in front of him were countless engineering parts some of which he guessed were Warp engine components although of vastly differing designs.

"You be a-ble use, yes!"

Suddenly all of this seemed too good to be true to Archer and he had to resist the urge to question where all this booty had come from. He felt a very real fear that he was being offered this massive hoard which had been gathered as a result of prolonged and systemic piracy. At the same time as he was acknowledging that their need was far too great to allow him the luxury of questioning the source of this treasure, he was wondering exactly when he had developed such an elastic conscience. The fact that the objects all lay under a thick blanket of dust which indicated they had been there for a long time brought him some solace. In the end though it was demeaning that his first concern was not where these items had come from and what price had been paid in blood but that he needed to know how much this was going to cost him.

* * *

Later when he was back in his ready room Archer found it hard to believe that it had only been about forty-eight hours since Trip and Travis had be there with him. He remembered that they had quickly got the business part of the conversation out of the way; discussing the mission in depth before they moved onto other things. It had been like old times. Trip was his old self again making Archer laugh out loud at a shared memory of a drunken encounter with a stuffed shirt Starfleet Admiral. Travis was so excited about the chance to flex his piloting skills.

At the end of the meeting they had both shaken his hand and walked away.

Archer was left wishing that he had the ability to banish their ghosts by going back in time and rescinding the order that had sent them to their deaths. If only he had discovered _Little Earth's _secrets earlier, then there wouldn't have been a requirement for Trillium D ore to barter for the items they needed to repair and maintain _Enterprise. _It was a painful irony that the sacrifice Trip and Travis had made, had turned out to be completely unnecessary.

Then there were the three aliens who had been rescued from the anomaly field that had taken his friends. Archer was trying to take a grain of hope from the fact that he had saved their lives although it would never balance out the loss of Trip and Travis. Although sadly the most recent report Phlox had given him was that at least one of the strangers would not recover from his injuries.

Archer roused himself from his morbid thoughts to look across at the other occupant of his ready room, Commander T'Pol. She had been passed as fit for duty by Doctor Phlox but Archer remained concerned about her. She was perched on the edge of the seat with her arms elegantly folded across her chest and she seemed to be closed in on herself; a living statue apparently oblivious to his presence. The Doctor had reported to Archer that he knew how T'Pol had known that Trip was dead and by association Travis, however he had not been prepared to elaborate further or explain her catastrophic breakdown. He had not tried to push Phlox further and therefore was left with no choice but to accept his friends were gone.

Archer had asked T'Pol to meet with him to discuss the Skagaran's demands. The Leader's Son, a name he insisted that Archer use when addressing him, had been incredibly helpful. He had handed over all of the access codes that they needed to get complete access to the underground complex in exchange for a promise of a new life on a populated planet.

As soon as Archer had made a bargain and given his word to the bizarre little alien he had been eager to get this mission underway right away. The search for a likely planet was to commence this very evening. Archer had therefore decided that the best solution for housing their guest comfortably and securely was to use Trip's vacant quarters even though he did not like the idea of a stranger being there one little bit.

Archer knew that Trip and T'Pol had formed a relationship and because of this he felt honour bound to let her know his decision. Although that was problematic as Phlox had warned him that just the mention of Trip's name would still be too much for T'Pol to cope with. However Archer had needed her to know that Trip's personal belongings would have to be removed to storage right away. It did not help that his conscience told him he was committing a terrible sacrilege by considering clearing away the reminders of his friend's existence while it was still too painful to even think about visiting the quarters himself. In the end he had managed to tell T'Pol by only referring to Charles "Trip" Tucker the Third as the "Commander" and she had accepted his decision with apparent calmness. Then with a very slight indication of emotion, she had insisted that she alone should be responsible for the removal of the "Commander's" belongings. After what was practically an outburst for a Vulcan T'Pol had withdrawn deep into the silence she still maintained and Archer had been left to his desolate thoughts and regrets.

The tense atmosphere had started to play on Archer's nerves and then he realized that he was too worried about T'Pol to care about protocol.

"I need your help, T'Pol."

The desperation he could hear in his own voice shocked him while it had the desired affect of waking T'Pol from her thoughts. She unwillingly met his gaze and then she gave him a brief nod to indicate that he should continue.

"I made the wrong choice…and as a result my closest friend and a very fine young man are dead."

In an effort to fight off the tears that threatened his composure Archer bit so hard on his lower lip that he tasted blood. He recognized that this emotional reaction was one of self pity and he hated himself for such a selfish response to his loss.

T'Pol let his words resonant through her traumatized mind. He did not know that he was asking for her help when she did not know how to help herself. It took a titanic effort to formulate a reply and it was only when she was sure she could control her voice that she said in a quiet measured monotone, "Your decision was the right one and was taken based on a realistic evaluation of our situation. They both understood and accepted that there were risks attached to the mission."

While she recovered from the effort that it took simply to converse, T'Pol was able to take some comfort from the fact she had demonstrated that she could still function logically.

"How can you know…"

Archer had started to ask a question that had been eating away at him but stopped as soon as he registered T'Pol's startled reaction. She had abruptly averted her gaze and the shutters came slamming down shutting her away from him. Archer immediately backed right off, mentally kicking himself for his insensitivity.

"I apologise T'Pol, my question was way too personal…"

In response T'Pol abruptly got to her feet and stood to attention.

"Permission to be dismissed, Captain. I must attend to the matter we discussed at once."

Her statement was said in such a calm and straightforward way anyone listening would have been fooled into thinking she was completely devoid of any feeling. It was only because Archer had witnessed her total loss of emotional control that he knew the true depth of her hurt. He stood up to give her the order she desired, "Of course…you are dismissed, thank you Commander."

He remained on his feet as T'Pol left the ready room and then he turned to face the viewing port. He looked out into the deep blackness of space dotted by the tiny pinpricks of cold light from distant stars. He could also see a part of the framework of the space port that was currently cradling _Enterprise_. At that moment he knew that Lieutenant Reed was busy supervising the loading of the supplies from the planet's vast warehouse while he shut himself away and languished in his grief. Finally he let salty tears run in down his face to mark his uniform as he stared out into the darkness which reflected the emptiness at the core of his being. It had been a long time since he had felt so completely lost, helpless and alone.

* * *

T'Pol knew that it was appropriate to mourn the loss of her bond mate; after all she had lost a vital part of what had made her feel complete. Even though the bond between them had not had a chance to develop fully she was still surprised at how quickly their connection had strengthened. This was of particular note as their bond was not the joining of ordered minds so prized in the literature of her culture. He certainly had not obeyed the rules that would normally govern a telepathic link with another. He had been a loud and noisy voice in her head and so incredibly emotional; bombarding her with so many questions that at times made her feel lightheaded. However T'Pol had not often felt the need to ask that he be quiet or stop asking so much of her. She had chosen to cope with what she considered to be his wild and erratic behaviour because he had made her feel so alive. Her desperate theory that the symptoms she had suffered when he had died were evidence that somehow his human soul had been transferred to her had come to nothing. There was only an echoing silence left where his voice had once resided in her consciousness.

Standing in the centre of his quarters, T'Pol regretted that she had never been there before. If she had taken that chance then she could have asked him to explain the stories behind the photographs, an old metallic diving helmet and all of the other fascinating artifacts arranged on the shelving units. She would then have had the data which would have helped her form a picture of what his life had been like before she had known him. Without his presence and input every keepsake in this place was just another disconnected object. Still T'Pol felt compelled to absorb and catalogue every aspect of the deserted quarters to her memory as she slowly turned around.

She had forced herself to take on this task to try and push past the numbing pain that was halting the healing process. Her period of enforced rest had proved beneficial in ending the physical agony she had suffered and with that the madness that had threatened her life had also been greatly reduced. However she continued to find it difficult to focus on the day to day realities of her life. T'Pol had reasoned that the physical act of clearing away her bond mate's personal belongings would be a cathartic one. Yet as she stood in his domain she was aware of a desperate and illogical need within her to search out and grasp hold of any remnant of his presence which might linger in this temporary shrine.

Eventually though T'Pol had to make herself start the process of clearing out the quarters, pushing away her yearning for him. She concentrated on working quickly but methodically. Every single item that had once been part of his life was put into boxes and then marked with his name and a description of the contents before being placed in the corridor for removal to storage. T'Pol did not linger over any of the objects she handled although a very small number of items which held a particular significance to her were kept to one side.

When eventually his quarters were completely stripped bare T'Pol returned to the position where she had stood the first time she had been there. She had been reluctant to revisit the full effect of the mental anguish she knew was the price of her loss. Having removed his physical possessions from the room it seemed to be the right time to try and face up to what had happened in the hope that she could then start to heal. So with her eyes closed T'Pol approached the heavily shielded part of her mind that had once been the source of their connection. Then T'Pol began to search for the clean break she expected to find there. Instead there was only confusion and disarray as she was confronted by many ragged and splintered threads, each of which she followed until they simply tapered away. The effort of tracking through such a confusing maze was exhausting and finally with a gasp of pain T'Pol dropped to the floor on her knees and leant forward as if she had been winded.

Once she had recovered sufficiently to push herself up to stand T'Pol stumbled over to his bunk where she lay out on top of the newly made up bed and attempted to regain her composure.

She had been only a child when her father died and although her mother shielded her from most of the pain of mourning, some of its raw power had still filtered through the maternal bond. Then T'Pol remembered that her mother had broken down on one occasion and had held her far too tightly; ignoring T'Pol's frightened and confused reaction. She had not understood her mother's behaviour or what words she could use to soothe or even how to return her mother's embrace. So she had remained rigidly still and silent while inexplicable tears rained down on her. After her mother had managed to regain sufficient control of her emotions she had gently released T'Pol from the terrible grip of her grief. There were no other displays of emotion and the ritual burying of painful memories had been extended to include the physical removal of all that pertained to her father from their house. Even his given name was cleansed from their lives to ease her mother's suffering and he was condemned for leaving them to only be referred to as "husband or "father" from then on. T'Pol did not know if her parents had shared a mate bond although the depth of her mother's anguish indicated that they might have. Such personal questions were taboo even for a daughter to ask of her mother.

As she lay where he had lain T'Pol realized that what she wanted was to experience mourning: the stabbing wrench of loss she understood from sharing her mother's experience. Not the terrible vivid emotions that had overwhelmed her when he had been lost but a final intense recognition of the change in her status; her widowhood. T'Pol longed for that, considering that it would be preferable to the numb coldness at her centre as though she too was dead or in limbo. Yet illogically she found she was still stubbornly clinging to a spark of hope that she was wrong. T'Pol wanted to ignore all of the evidence and her own conclusions without the slightest shred of proof to the contrary. She wondered if it was her much criticized overly emotional mind coupled with the after affects of Pa'nar syndrome and her misuse of Trellium D that was impairing her reasoning in this incredibly personal matter. T'Pol found that she was left with the frustration of being unable to relinquish her need for him and that caused bitter tears to fall, staining the spotlessly clean bed cover.


	7. Chapter 7

**Communication**

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**Chapter 7**

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Willis was standing to attention in the narrow corridor leading to the Captain's ready room with a MACO guard opposite his position staring intently at him. He was concentrating hard on maintaining his stance as it distracted him from thinking about what was going to happen when he had to face Captain Archer. Willis had held an exemplary service record with Starfleet, and he had been very proud of that fact. He knew that was about to change as he faced a very serious charge and he had no excuse for what had just taken place.

Willis still felt the acute embarrassment of being frog marched out of the mess room by a contingent of three MACOs led by Major Hayes. It had shamed him to walk past people who he knew and worked with and see the expression on their faces hardening against him as the whispered story was passed along; it had been an effective and painful example of the _Enterprise _grapevine at work.

The silent MACO standing with Willis filled the entrance hatch to the bridge, his phase rifle menacingly held at the ready. Willis guessed that he had been there for at least ten minutes and having to keep so still and straight was becoming an almost impossible burden. His wrists still smarted from being roughly grabbed and then thrust up above his head while his body had been forcibly shoved against a wall. It was after he had been violently removed from the action and immobilized; his body pressed hard onto the cold metallic wall by the sheer raw power of his subjugator that the anger which had fuelled the attack, seeped away.

The door to the ready room slid smartly open and Willis instinctively drew himself up to his full height as he prepared himself for what was to come. He tried to keep his eyes forward so that he would not make eye contact with Masaro who had emerged from the room sandwiched between two more MACOs. He still caught enough of a glimpse of the ensign to get a sense of the man's mood. Willis could see that he was still possessed by the wild self righteous anger that had brought both of them to this place. His face was vivid red, his eyes staring fixedly in front of him and his body trembled with the tension of a rage that was still threatening to surface.

"Crewman Willis!"

At the shouted command from the Captain, Willis entered the room followed by his MACO guard. He heard the door close behind him as he once more stood to attention, this time in front of his commander. Willis waited, hardly able to breathe, his eyes fixed on the center of the viewing port above where Captain Archer was seated. He knew that Major Hayes must still be present in the cramped room although he deliberately chose not to turn round to confirm this.

Suddenly Willis was aware of how helpless he was surrounded by all of this authority and in his panic he wondered where they were taking Masaro. He considered that the ensign might have been on his way to the nearest airlock and a summary execution. Common sense then intervened as he decided that the Captain wouldn't go that far, not if he could show that he felt an honest regret for his actions. As he waited for his fate, Willis had difficulty in making sense of how a mundane visit to the mess hall after a long shift had managed to end like this. He remembered that when he had entered the mess with Masaro it was quiet which had allowed the few crew members present to spread themselves out at different tables. In one corner a couple had been sitting close together sharing an intimate moment, the male reaching out to take hold of the female's hand. It had been that simple affectionate act which had attracted Masaro's attention, stopping him dead in mid sentence as he openly stared over at them. Initially his reaction had puzzled Willis until he realized that the reason for Masaro's disgusted reaction was that couple happened to be the bizarre and comical looking Denobulan, Doctor Phlox, and an attractive female MACO, Corporal Cole.

Willis had also felt revulsion at implication behind the Denobulan's actions towards a human female, it had seemed totally wrong in his eyes. This was exactly what Masaro had predicted and feared would happen the longer _Enterprise_ remained in the Expanse. Still even taking into account his own feelings, he had not expected Masaro to launch a vicious physical attack on the Doctor.

"I'm extremely disappointed in you Crewman Willis. There is no excuse for what you did. I hope you don't intend to follow your _friend's_ example and try to justify your behaviour." The Captain stated with controlled venom, spitting out the words as he opened the proceedings against him.

"No, Sir."

He found that he was ashamed that the Captain thought he was the same sort of man as Masaro. He thought of his wife, Marion who abhorred violence of any kind. What would she have made of the young man who aided by her own husband, had beaten up someone for simply showing affection for another? It was too late but Willis recognized how stupid he had been; how despair for the loss of his family had driven him to believe in Masaro so completely.

"Do you have anything you want to say Crewman?"

While his first desire was to spill the beans about Masaro's plans to take over the ship, Willis quickly rethought his rash idea. It might have helped him to admit to this but he would also have to implicate a small number of good people who had also come to believe in Masaro simply because of their longing to return to a world peopled by their own kind. Realistically he accepted that they had been too few to have ever mounted a serious threat to Captain Archer's command so he thought that perhaps it would be wiser to let sleeping dogs lie.

So after a brief hesitation Willis answered firmly, "No, Sir."

Captain Archer came around his desk and stood directly in front of Willis so that he could stare down the shorter man. The contempt in his voice was very clear as he handed down his sentence, "I want you to think long and hard about your actions. Seven days of solitary confinement in the brig should help focus your mind."

The captain's temper then openly flared as he leant in close to make his feelings plain, "Listen closely Crewman, if you ever do anything to hurt another member of my crew again, expect to spend the rest of your life on the first M class planet we come across. And I won't care how hostile the inhabitants are, is that clear?"

"Yes Sir."

"You are dismissed!"

Willis wheeled about as the MACO hit the door control. He was about to follow his guard through the doorway when he remembered he had no idea just how badly hurt the doctor was. All he could remember was the shocked looks of the bystanders when Denobulan's face had blown up to twice its normal size in a dramatic reaction to the ongoing attack.

It had happened while Masaro was pummeling Phlox with his fists, his head down to counter the weight of Corporal Cole as she tried to pull him out of range. Even with her on his back, Masaro's rage had gifted him superhuman strength as he blindly and rhythmically landed punches on his victim's torso; first his left then his right fist making hard contact. Phlox had stopped trying to defend himself and he stood with his back against the wall taking the abuse as if he was a punch bag. The explosive panting that he had expelled in response to every blow was the only indication that he felt each hurt. Willis had been right behind Masaro and Cole trying to prize her off him. She had lashed out with her feet to fend Willis off and he had countered to land a fist on her lower back. That was when Phlox's head had suddenly exploded outwards. This had stopped Willis in his tracks and then he felt rough hands grab him and he was dragged away. After that he had only been able to hear the confusion of concerned voices until the struggle to contain Masaro was successful and Phlox could then be tended to.

Tentatively Willis asked, "Sir, will the doctor be okay?"

The previously silent Hayes suddenly decided to make his presence known with a snort of disgust. The Major's reaction was reflected in Captain Archer's face as Willis met his gaze.

"No thanks to you Crewman, but Doctor Phlox will recover, at least physically."

The Captain contemplated the uncomfortable crewman for a moment longer, giving him a hard angry stare. Then through clenched teeth he issued Willis with his final order of the day, "Get out of my sight!"

* * *

Archer strode purposely along the corridor after yet another visit to the Skagaran's temporary quarters. His unwelcome guest was being an infuriating irritant when Archer had far more important problems to deal with. One of his top priorities involved the planning of a memorial service for Trip and Travis. It was a painful duty that was giving him sleepless nights and did not help him cope with much else. Meanwhile the search continued for a suitable planet while the Skagaran kept complaining about the restrictions that had been imposed on him. He was most vocal in his strange broken Standard Terran about being confined to what Archer still considered to be Trip's quarters. This time he had demanded to know why he was being treated as a prisoner instead of an honoured guest. Archer had snapped, giving up on his attempts to be civil. Although yet again he had tried to impress on the suspicious little being that he would keep his end of their bargain and find him a new home. Far from being cowed by Archer's display of temper, the Skagaran was still shouting out his usual litany of complaints as he left the quarters until mercifully the door was locked shut behind him.

As he walked Archer could feel the gentle vibration of the Warp engines. In his mind's eye he could see _Enterprise _travelling through space at Warp 2.5. It was the best speed Lieutenant Hess could risk pushing the engines at the moment but still it felt good to be underway; except for the fact that Trip and Travis were no longer there to enjoy the experience with him. Archer tried at least to soothe his anger at the little being with the thought that they now had sufficient supplies to fully repair and maintain the ship for a long time to come_. _It was the only thing that made the alien's unwelcome presence in his friend's quarters palatable.

As he approached his destination he noticed that the lights within the sickbay had been dimmed. He hit the release and as soon as doors swished opened he quietly walked to the centre of the room. Archer noted that three of the bays had their ceiling to floor curtains drawn across to shield their occupants while Doctor Phlox was sitting with his back to him and was deeply engrossed in his work at a monitor station.

He went right up to Phlox only to see him leap suddenly from his chair and turn anxiously to face the intruder while bracing himself against the work station. Horrified at his insensitivity to the Doctor's shattered nerves, Archer watched as he visibly started to relax when he registered who was paying him a visit. Although there was no obvious evidence of the attack, the pained expression on Phlox's features was all that was needed to demonstrate that he was still in a great deal of physical and mental discomfort.

"I'm Sorry Phlox; I should have should have let you know I was here. How are you doing?"

"Battered and bruised, Captain. My body is healing but it will take much longer for me to be comfortable about mixing with the crew."

Then Corporal Cole appeared from behind one of the curtained bays carrying a medical PADD which she handed to Phlox while giving him a look which Archer read as one of deep concern.

The Corporal turned her attention to him and saluted before making a request in a tone that contained more than a hint of anger, "Permission to speak freely Sir."

"Permission granted, Corporal."

"Sir, Masaro got _ten days_ in the brig, for a brutal and unprovoked attack?"

Archer saw Phlox slip his hand around the Cole's arm as though he was anxious to restrain her anger.

"I understand what you're saying Corporal and rest assured that if it were not for the circumstances we face Masaro would be facing a summary court martial. Unfortunately I have to face the reality that we were already short staffed in Engineering and losing two more men just puts more pressure on rest of the crew. However I have also demoted him to crewman and he will be only allowed supervised access to the ship when he is released. Willis had an excellent record before this incident and he has shown remorse for his actions but he will also be carefully monitored once he has served his sentence."

Phlox who had listened intently to Archer turned to his assistant and in a gentle voice chided her, "Now Amanda I am satisfied with the action taken by Captain Archer." Phlox regarded his captain and added in a firm voice, "And I hope they both make good use of their incarceration to consider their actions."

The doctor then turned his attention to the PADD Corporal Cole had just handed him. Archer noted that she had taken to gazing intently at the floor as though she was fighting to collect her feelings and stop herself from saying something she might regret latter. Phlox was shaking his head sadly as he examined the data.

"Is something wrong?" Archer asked with concern.

"When the aliens were beamed aboard they were all in a serious condition. Despite my best efforts, and his incredible will to live the male of the group is now beyond help. Frankly I am surprised he has held on for so long. His plasma burns were so extensive and deep he has been under heavy sedation since he was beamed aboard and I do not expect him to last the night. One of the two females is causing some concern but eventually she should recover from her injuries. The other one is still sedated but by tomorrow the skin regeneration process will be complete and I can awaken her. I would have liked for the male to have one of his own kind with him at this time but…"

Archer reached over and put a comforting hand on Phlox's shoulder, "I know that you have done all you could do for him. Is there any information in the databanks that might help us identify their species?"

Wearily Phlox shook his head, "No Captain, I hope we can learn more tomorrow with Lieutenant Sato's assistance. However all I can do now is watch over the male and ensure he does not suffer any further pain."

* * *

As Travis started to come round the first thing he thought about was his parents' space freighter. It seemed as though he was back in their quarters, a child snuggled up in their recently vacated and still warm bed. He felt incredibly groggy as if emerging from an extremely deep and restful sleep until a more alarming idea occurred to his befuddled brain; he was actually dead and what he was experiencing was a very comfortable afterlife. Eventually as the fog of confusion slowly cleared he gratefully returned to the reality that he was still very much alive.

With his senses fully awakened Travis realized that he was no longer in pain. To have no pain at all was a truly wonderful sensation as was the feeling that his body was gradually returning to his control. He discovered that he was actually floating in a warm bubble of zero gravity contained within a cocoon made of fabric which held its shape around him. He could just make out the fine weave of the orange coloured material illuminated by the pinpricks of light if he squinted at the area that was just above his face. He was reminded of the retractable tunnel that had attached itself to their crippled Shuttlepod. Travis experimented by blowing gently at the material and it billowed away from him and then lightly brushed against his face before returning to its original position. He then reached out his right hand to try to grab hold of it but it was so smooth and taut he couldn't gather it in his fingers and the effort caused his body to partially whirl round. He was only stopped from turning a complete circle by a length of plastic tubing, one end of which was strapped to his right forearm while the other disappeared into a hole in the base of the cocoon. As he craned his head to examine his body he saw what looked like a thick tube made of black rubber encasing his broken left arm which had been secured by two thinner bands of the same material, this time grey in colour, wrapped around his torso.

Then Travis began to feel he was gradually becoming heavier and in a few minutes his body came to rest on a hard surface. The fabric separated above him and fluttered apart before being whisked away into the slots at each side of the narrow raised table Travis was resting on. Gingerly he lifted himself into a sitting position favouring his good right side. The EV suit that he had been wearing had been completely removed and he only had on his Starfleet issue blue shorts. Inlaid on the ceiling above him, he saw two tracks which echoed the shape of the table before they linked together at the cubicle opening to form one double line which then ran to a central hub. He could make out other tracks leading away from the hub like the spokes of a wheel. The hub itself was a wide hexagonal column and on the side that was directly facing him Travis could see a monitor and a series of controls. A red light which caught his eye as it pulsed along the length of the track to his right and Travis realized that the cubicle next to his was active.

Deciding to investigate further in the hope that his neighbour was Trip, he carefully swung his legs off the table and started to stand up. Unfortunately he had forgotten about the tube still attached to his arm and as it reached its optimum length he was yanked to a halt. All he wanted to do was to get it off him so somewhat recklessly Travis pulled hard against it until a syringe needle was ripped out of his forearm and he was splashed with a warm clear liquid as it whipped away from him. He felt light headed from the sudden exertion and was forced to lean against the partition until he recovered. Travis then walked to the edge of his cubicle and nervously peered around the room incase there was something or someone there waiting to do him harm.

The cubicle next to his was completely sealed off with an opaque hard plastic sheet so Travis decided to go to the side of the central hub that corresponded with that bay. He found that the monitor was active with the screen split into three sections through which a constant stream of data was being recorded. While he was still trying to make sense of what it all meant the data suddenly cleared and instead an image of Trip's head and shoulders was displayed on the screen. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep and there was a close fitting cap on his head made of the same material that formed Travis's arm cast. There was also a ring of what appeared to be electrodes attached to Trip's forehead and other thin tubes were threaded randomly through the head cast.

Travis stepped away from the monitor and completed a circuit of the room looking into each of the cubicles but the rest were all empty. He then went back to the monitor which had returned to its continuous display of scrolling data.

Out of mounting desperation at his inability to understand what was going on Travis decided to address the monitor to see if it would answer the question that was bothering him, "Can you explain what is happening to my friend?"

The pattern that was being displayed changed apparently echoing his question as an electronic voice mimicked his query.

Then out of nowhere and in the same simulated voice came a strange and off putting message, "The Controller is not here."

Startled by the disembodied voice Travis involuntarily darted back from the hub to scan the room for the slightest chance that there was someone was there.

"All possible help has been given to your friend. There is no more that can be done for your friend."

Travis was shocked to hear this as well as startled that the means of communication used by the computer was a crudely synthetic approximation of his own voice.

"Where is the Controller?" Travis decided to enquire of the computer monitor. It went blank and then Travis found himself looking at a basic image of his own face expressed in a series of roughly drawn lines.

"The Controller is not here," his reflection mouthed back at him.

"Tell me something I don't know!" Travis shouted back in frustration.

"Your enquiry is non-specific. Repeat message: all possible help has been given to your friend. You must now help your friend."

At that the sheet in front the cubicle that contained Trip lifted smoothly up into a slot in the ceiling and revealed a long transparent semicircular tube with an orange coloured cocoon of fabric suspended inside. The sack was gradually and gently deflating until the body inside rested on the table. Then the protective outer tube rolled back into the base of the table with the top and bottom ends dropping down last. The orange sack split in two and then was also pulled away down into the base. Travis moved towards where Trip was lying on the table. The electrodes and the other tubes that had been threaded through the cap on his head had gone leaving behind tiny puncture marks dotted round Trip's forehead. Like Travis he was naked apart from his regulation blue shorts and there was a heavy black cast that ran the length of his right leg as well as a tubular bandage in a thinner grey rubber wrapped tightly around his torso.

Travis waited as Trip began to emerge into consciousness. Then Trip started to lift his hands up to his head as if searching for whatever it was causing him discomfort. Travis noticed that the head cast was digging into his skin. Travis felt that this was a bizarre treatment for a head injury so he decided to help remove it. He really had to tug at it to pull the cast off and once it was discarded, he saw that it had left behind an angry red indentation.

"That must have hurt, are you okay?"

Trip did not respond so Travis nudged him on the shoulder to try and get his attention before asking, "Trip, can you hear me?"

"Real strange sen…sation…floating" Trip murmured as his right arm still hovered unsteadily over his head as though he had not yet registered that the source of his irritation had gone.

"Trip!" Travis repeated almost shouting.

"Where am I…feel strange…floating…floating in space!" As Trip shouted out the last statement his body jerked forward in a panicked motion as if he was awakening from a dream with the sensation he was falling.

Travis gently restrained Trip with a hand on his shoulder, "Try not to move Trip, your leg is broken and you have a serious head injury. I'm not exactly sure where we are but my best guess is that it is some sort of automated medical facility."

Then he turned around to check the monitor facing Trip's cubicle but it was now blank and had shut down. The computer had obviously turned Trip's care fully over to Travis and that made him feel really scared.

"T'Pol, where are you T'Pol?" Trip asked in terror as he struggled to open his eyes against the bright ceiling lights.

_Why __the hell is he so concerned about T'Pol,_ Travis thought as he tried again to jog Trip's memory,"T'Pol wasn't with us on our mission, Trip. Please try to remember. We were taking a load of Trellium D ore back to _Enterprise _when our Shuttlepod was caught in an anomaly. Can't you remember anything that happened?"

However Trip was not listening as his fingers caressed his forehead where there was a ring of pain and he groaned softly to himself.

To Travis the lack of a response indicated he was starting to slip back into unconsciousness so he decided he needed to do something and in a hurry. He put his hand back on Trip's shoulder to try and get his attention, "Trip you should try to rest. I'm going to get us out of here!"

"Travis..!"

Trip had reached out wildly and managed to grab hold of Travis' arm before he could get the chance to leave. "Travis, I can't see you, can't see a thing…"


	8. Chapter 8

**Communication**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

More in hope than expectation Travis activated the pressure pad beside the door that was the only exit from the automated medical centre. The thought had crossed his mind that the two of them could be prisoners in that sterile environment so he was actually surprised when it opened for him.

He was on a mission to find some liquid refreshment for Trip but the sight that greeted him as he went into the next room momentarily distracted him. He was in a basic mess hall which held a small number of square tables with chairs grouped around each of them and on his left was a kitchen area. Although a row of cupboards that reached from the floor to the ceiling situated behind a bare and battered work surface hardly deserved to be called a kitchen. What had really grabbed his attention was the low couch he could see straight in front of him through a large opening in the opposite wall. He recognized that it was the couch that he had, with difficulty, lifted Trip onto after they had been evacuated from the shuttlepod. As he took in how tawdry and used the items of furniture were when seen under the harsh ceiling lights, he knew that this meant they were still inside the sphere that had destroyed their pod, marooning them there.

Then Travis glanced to his right and noted that the broken hatch was still hanging precariously on one metal hinge. He remembered how spooked he had been by the dormitory that lay beyond that hatch when he had walked through it in semi-darkness. Travis could plainly see that there was evidence of blast damage around the locking mechanism of the hatch. The confirmation that there had been violence in this place only added to his unease and left him feeling very vulnerable, as he stood clad only in his underwear with his broken left arm completely immobilized.

His first priority remained to find something they could both drink so he concentrated on the kitchen area which was so sparsely decorated it was easy to spot what was likely to be a dispenser. However he decided to check out the cupboards first even if that meant turning his back on the damaged hatch. His imagination was working overtime as if he half expected someone to emerge from there to attack him as soon as his attention was averted as he set to work.

He finished his search of the cupboards disappointed to find they only contained neat rows of stacked crockery covered in a film of dust. There was also a deactivated stasis unit in the corner of the room but that was empty and dirty judging by the stale smell coming from the interior. What he took to be a dispenser was a freestanding narrow cylinder which was situated next to the stasis unit and it looked as if it had been well used. Travis did not hold out much hope that it would be in working order. However when he touched the cold metallic pad that he guessed might be an activation sensor, he felt a gentle vibration through his finger tips as it came to life. Then with a grimy glass in hand he started pushing each of the differently coloured buttons in turn and the machine brought forth a series of unappetizing sludgy pastes that slithered to the bottom of each of the receptacles he presented to the spout. It was only when he tried the last button on the front of the machine that he hit proverbial gold dust.

The liquid that squirted out was very cloudy and so hot it hurt his fingers and he had to quickly deposit the glass on the work surface. As soon as Travis could bear to touch the outside of the glass he lifted it up and poured the contents into the dispenser's waste pipe. He then repeated the exercise several times until the liquid was clear enough for him to be able to view the dispenser through the glass as he held it up in front him. There were tiny specks floating in the relatively clear liquid that looked promisingly like water but Travis could not see any of them wriggling so he felt that they posed little or no threat. Cautiously he brought the glass to his lips and took a small sip. The water had a musty taste and as he swallowed, there was a coating of grainy particles left behind in his mouth. Travis then waited for a few minutes to make sure he did not suffer any immediate ill effects before he satisfied his raging thirst by draining the glass.

Travis then filled another glass of water for his desperately thirsty friend and went back into the medical centre. Trip was still lying on the table and had placed one arm over his eyes to shield them from the bright ceiling lights which were causing him a great deal of discomfort. As soon as he heard the doors opening Trip lifted his head off the table and looked anxiously towards the direction of the approaching footsteps.

"Travis…is that you?" he asked nervously; the vulnerability he felt due to his blindness and immobility clear in the frightened tone of his voice.

"It's okay, there's no one here apart from us. And when you drink this you'll understand exactly why this _hostel_ went out of business!"

Travis put the glass down on the floor and then he rushed back to get some chair cushions from the mess hall to help prop Trip up against the end wall of the cubicle. Once Trip was ready Travis sat on the edge of the table and watched as he gingerly took small sips of the water. Trip drank as much as he could endure until with a look of disgust he held out the glass for Travis to dispose of.

The effort of sitting up appeared to have sapped Trip's limited reserves of strength and he was looking very pale. So Travis moved as quickly as he could to help him lie down again, removing all of the cushions apart from one for Trip to rest his head on. Then he did not have to wait long for Trip to sink into a restless sleep after which he felt it was safe to leave him and return to the control room. He also decided to get some bedding from the dormitory to help make the table Trip was resting on more comfortable.

As Travis entered the brightly lit dormitory that he had last traversed in almost darkness, he came to an abrupt halt transfixed by the vivid evidence of past horrors that had been played out in that place. Travis then wished that his original gut feeling had just been due to the eerie shadowy dimness because the reality he faced revealed cruelty beyond belief.

Disheveled bedding half sprawled on the metal floor was testimony that unfortunate beings had been dragged from their beds. The bunks were still strewn with personal items and clothing which had been thrown from grey metal lockers beside each bunk. And in the narrow wall space between the bunks and lockers, great sprays of rust coloured staining besmirched the silver grey colour of the walls. Any lingering doubt about the origin of those stains was dispelled by what faced Travis as he walked towards the control room. There was an imprint of a hand on the wall, the outstretched arc of four fingers preserved by blood that had stained the space between each digit. The image was a silent witness to a brutal ending of one life among many. In this room a systematic mass execution had been carried out; and Travis felt a cold chill of dread as he faced that reality.

Suddenly he was distracted from the horror by the muffed sound of Trip shouting out his name. He was instantly relieved to have a reason to return to the land of the living as well as desperately worried that his friend was in trouble. He rushed back and into the medical centre as soon as the door had opened enough for him to slip through.

Trip shouted out his name again as soon as Travis stumbled into the room.

He responded immediately to reassure Trip as the door shut behind him. "I'm here Trip, what's wrong?"

"How long we have been here?"

"I don't know, maybe two or three days…what, do you think the Captain's given up on us?"

"The shuttlepod would have been destroyed if we had remained in the anomaly. _Enterprise_ hasn't heard from us for days, if it was up to me, I'd think we were long dead. Shit, Travis we need to tell them that we're here, or else we might as well be…"

Travis noticed that Trip's voice had trailed away to a whisper as if even the sound of his own voice was causing him distress.

He wondered if Trip was in pain and he noticed that there was a length of tubing attached to Trip's right arm. He examined it and noticed that there was no longer fluid running through the tube. Travis wondered if it had carried a painkiller perhaps in the form of an anaesthetic and that as the medication gradually cleared from Trip's system he would be in more and more pain. It seemed that the medical console had been deadly serious when it had told him that it was washing its metaphorical hands of Trip and his care.

As it was obvious that Trip's condition was already starting to worsen since he had been woken from medically induced unconsciousness, Travis knew that help was needed even more urgently, "Trip, listen I've to go to the control…"

"But I can contact T'Pol!"

Travis silently shook his head in frustration. This was not the first time Trip had mentioned this idea and Travis was deeply concerned that these delusions were a serious symptom of his brain injury. Speaking slowly and deliberately he tried to get through to Trip, "I must go back to the control room I located _right now_. It is the only way we can summon help."

Trip raised his head from the cushion and appeared to be attempting to get off the table as he shouted out, "but I can tell T'Pol where we are!"

Leaning forward to put his hands on Trip's shoulders and push him back onto the table, Travis tried to calm him down, "You must try to rest, I know you're trying to help…"

Suddenly Trip reached out and with surprising strength managed to grab hold of Travis' left shoulder. The sharp pain from the pressure on his broken arm caused Travis to instinctively pull himself back and that action lifted Trip up from the table.

Travis only managed to break free of his grip just as Trip's forward momentum was halted by the wide rubber band wrapped round his torso and he was left sitting upright. Travis turned away and gasped for air in short sharp gulps as he sat on the edge of the table cradling his arm and trying to cope with the intense pain he was feeling. His recovery was not helped by Trip who was leaning against Travis' right side. From the rough moans coming from Trip it was obvious he was suffering as well.

"Why the _hell_ did you have to do that?"

"You have to…listen, Travis. I do have a link to…T'Pol…no time to explain…but I need to try…to reach out…to her. I need your…help, _help_ me."

Defeated and in pain Travis gave up trying to reason with him; deciding instead to play along in the hope he could get Trip to rest so that he could get to the control room. "Okay, I'll help, what do you need me to do?"

"If I can sit upright…it will be easier…to meditate, clear my mind."

Travis could not picture anything more implausible than the idea of Trip mediating; apart of course from the bizarre suggestion that he shared some sort of _link_ with the unemotional Vulcan, T'Pol. Frustrated beyond belief, Travis expressed his immediate scornful reaction without thinking, "_you meditate_?"

In response Trip shot an angry glare in the general direction of Travis. Then very gingerly Trip started to try to drag his body back so that he would be able rest against the wall at the head of the narrow table. Seeing what he was attempting to do on his own Travis went at once to help. He lifted the cushion up out of Trip's way and then leaned it against the wall to provide him with a comfortable support.

Then Trip made a strange request, all be it with a hint of a smile on his face.

"Come across any candles when you've been exploring?"

"What the _hell _do you want candles for, to set the mood?" Travis retorted not bothering to hide his total disbelief that he was actually going along with this crazy scheme.

Trip chose to ignore his rudeness; instead he shut his eyes to minimize the irritation the bright lights were causing him. He then concentrated on breathing as slowly and as deeply as he could manage with a tight rubber support wrapped around his broken and bruised ribs.

Travis was left to wait impatiently for a sign that Trip had gone to sleep so that he could hot foot it back to the control room. After almost ten very long and tense minutes without any movement from Trip he considered that it was safe enough for him to leave, and he started to move away as quietly as he could.

"Hey, just where are you going?"

Guiltily Travis looked round to see that Trip's eyes were wide open and staring blindly towards where he was standing.

"Nowhere Trip, I'm not going anywhere, just need to sit down. _Please_ be sure to let me know when you get through."

"You'll be the first!" Trip responded, returning the young man's sarcasm with interest.

Travis had no choice but to sit, perched on the end of the table, and stare at the brilliantly white partition wall in front of him, indignant at the time he was being forced to waste.

Suddenly Trip whispered T'Pol's name with such awe and love that Travis was shocked as he took in the look of pure rapture on his friend's face. It was as if the simple act of saying the name of the person who was so precious to him had melted away all of his pain and fear.

* * *

Jonathon Archer was lying in his bed staring at the ceiling as if the answers to his all troubles would be found there if only he could look hard enough. He had long since given up on the possibility of getting any sleep that night. It was 0200 hours and later that day _Enterprise _would arrive at an inhabited M Class planet. The plan was for _Enterprise _to drop out of warp and remain in a wide orbit while more detailed scans were conducted. Long range scans had shown that there was no evidence the species living on this world had managed to reach out into space. If that was confirmed the next stage would be to move in closer to ascertain whether the indigenous population met the Skagaran's requirements with regard to his new home.

Archer would also be conducting the memorial service for Trip and Travis. He had therefore spent many difficult hours putting together fitting eulogies that would best sum up what they had meant to him and the rest of the crew. At the predetermined time the crew would cease work and those that were not part of the skeleton crew would gather in the main hanger bay to bid a formal farewell to their fallen comrades. Malcolm and Hoshi had also requested that they be allowed to share their thoughts about their friends at the memorial service while T'Pol would remain in her quarters from where she could listen into the ship wide broadcast. He could understand that it would be unbearably uncomfortable for her to have to stand among a group of emotionally compromised humans. There was no need for her to make a public show of her grief; Archer knew that she would be mourning with them, perhaps even more deeply than they would ever know.

Archer groaned as he realized that the irritating noise reverberating through his tired brain was the door comm. Although he was wide awake he wished that the person on the other side of the door would give up and leave him be. Unfortunately the comm kept being activated and the noise had managed to wake Porthos who was scratching his claws against the door as if he wanted to assist the person on the other side gain entry. Archer lifted his head and noted that his chronometer read 0238 hours and with a weary sigh he called Porthos to him and issued the command to invite the visitor to enter.

T'Pol rushed in and quickly closed the door behind her as he threw off the covers and swung his legs round to sit on the edge of the bed.

Then while Porthos excitedly jumped up and put his paws on her legs, his tail wagging furiously with the innocent joy of having a potential playmate, Archer took in his first officer's strange appearance. T'Pol was wearing a loose red t-shirt over a pair of blue satin pajama bottoms, her hair was tousled and she was barefoot. Archer could only hope that she had not encountered anyone on her journey to his quarters.

She seemed completely oblivious to Porthos who had taken to sitting close to her feet and looking hopefully up at her, his tail energetically sweeping the deck. T'Pol continued to stare wild eyed at him which made Archer feel incredibly uncomfortable as if he was witnessing her descent towards inexplicable madness. He was forcefully reminded of their time on the Seleya and the brutally poisonous effect that Trillium D had had on T'Pol. Then she had lost all control becoming paranoid beyond reason and lashing out in violent anger.

Archer stood up; grabbing a sweatshirt which he'd left at the end of the bed. He quickly pulled it on over his head, glad to have something to do to hide his awkwardness while also covering his partial nakedness. He was really unsure of how to deal with this situation and in the end decided to start by asking a straight forward question to ascertain if she was actually able to function, "T'Pol, do you know what time it is?"

His question startled T'Pol from the internal battle that was raging in her head. Although she tried to centre her mind her voice still sounded as though she was only just in control of her underlying hysteria as she blurted out, "I was incorrect when I made my first evaluation. He is alive!"

Instantly horrified by her words, Archer rubbed his eyes as if he was trying to work out if he was having a really bad dream or worse was actually awake. Then having confirmed that this was for real he tried to make sense of what T'Pol had just said. He steeled himself for the answer he suspected was going to follow and then very gently he queried, "Who is alive, T'Pol?"

"Commander Tucker…I was mistaken. We must return to the anomaly field."

"The anomaly was far too powerful; their ship must have been destroyed. I watched a space craft much larger than the _Enterprise_ being ripped apart as though it was made of paper."

T'Pol had not moved from where she standing and Porthos had already given up on making friends and was padding back to his basket as Archer walked over to his viewing port where the stars had been transformed into intensely white streaks of light against the black. With the deep sadness he was feeling evident in his voice, Archer continued, "I wish he was still here too, T'Pol. You must have dreamt this?"

"Vulcans do _not_ dream!"

She was startled, not only by the ferocity of her response but also that she had made such an indefinite statement. How could she presume to speak for her whole of race with regard to what was most definitely a private issue? T'Pol half expected that Captain Archer would question her use of such an obvious generalization. Her reaction could only be explained by the fact that she had actually been asleep when Trip had first entered her thoughts and that at first she _had_ thought she was dreaming. The vision of him had been dark and horrifying; he appeared to be trapped in a narrow and dark space and he was crying out to her while clawing with his hands at the box that enclosed him. T'Pol had abruptly woken up at that point, her heart pounding and her breathing rapid and shallow.

At first she had refused to believe that he was reaching out to her; that he really could be alive. She had to force herself to calm down and stop the tremors of fear coursing through her body before that she could attempt to mediate. It was only when she managed to reach her zone of tranquility that she accepted the truth. Trip was there with her again, very weak but still managing to send ripples of happiness that they were together again. For T'Pol though, the anguish of realizing that she had given up on him so easily and had abandoned her mate was agonizing. She had made a terrible mistake and had to make that right by finding a way to rescue him. Her first objective was to convince the captain to turn the ship around.

"T'Pol, _please_ don't do this. I know there was something between you and Trip but you have to try to come to terms wi…"

There was a desperate urgency in her voice as almost shouting, she interrupted Archer, "He is badly injured and needs our help."

"I'm sorry T'Pol," was all Archer could say as heart sick and with tears starting to well up in his eyes, he leant over to activate the comm button on his bedside control panel, "Doctor Phlox could you report to my quarters."

"Please, I can explain…there is no need to involve the Doctor."

Archer was completely taken aback, T'Pol was pleading with him. She was standing before him completely stripped of her shell of serene calm. He was so affected by the palpable desperation with which she had addressed him that he very nearly jumped out of his skin when his comm burst into life.

"Captain Archer, I am currently running a particularly complex experiment which requires my presence in sick bay. Can I enquire how urgent your request is?"

"I need you to come to my quarters as quickly as possible, Phlox."

"I can be there as soon as I have shut down the experiment, say five minutes."

"Thank you Phlox…"

For an instant T'Pol contemplated rendering Captain Archer unconscious and attempting to take over the ship. She recognized that it was a primeval desire to use violence to get what she needed that very instant; to go to the aid of her injured mate. Although she could already feel the satisfaction of viewing Archer's prone body at her feet she forced her longing down and tried once more to reason with him, "This is unnecessary; I have already told you that I can explain how I know he is alive."

Archer's eyes had strayed to T'Pol's hands which were curled into tight fists at her sides and together with the barely controlled venom in her voice, expressed her inner turmoil very clearly. So he tried to make her understand that what he had just done made sense: "Phlox knows more about your condition, he is better placed to help you."

However T'Pol's eyes continued to beseech him, begging for his help and he decided that letting her talk might be a good distraction while they waited for the doctor.

"Okay I'm all ears, "he said, then despite the gravity of the occasion he had to suppress a smile as soon as the phrase escaped his lips. Archer was reminded that T'Pol had questioned his apparent obsession with Vulcan ears before.

"Commander Tucker and I share a telepathic bond. He is my mate."

_What the hell!_ Jon was completely shocked by what he had heard as he stared at T'Pol. This was rapidly turning into one of those situations where all he wanted was to be somewhere else. Just when he thought things could not get any more uncomfortable, T'Pol had managed to totally blind side him. There was nothing in his training to help him make sense of this. However there was one insistent question among the multitude of when, why and how ones that were coursing through his mind.

"If you have this telepathic link, why did you say that he was dead?"

"I am not sure why I thought that was the case. You must understand that the existence of telepathic bonds between mates is not a subject openly discussed by Vulcans. I also have not taken a mate before so I have no prior experience of such a bond. I can only presume that either it did not form correctly or I misinterpreted the sensations I felt, he is Human…"

Archer lifted his hand to signal that he needed her to stop talking. Then he activated his comm, "Phlox, I'm sorry but I've bothered you for no reason and I no longer require your assistance, everything is fine."

"Message understood Captain."

The terse response from Phlox added guilt to the complex feelings Archer was experiencing. He was embarrassed to admit to himself that he was more than a little jealous. Although Archer had accepted that Trip and T'Pol had had a relationship, he found it difficult to cope with the knowledge that it had gone as far as sleeping together. He contemplated the deck for a minute while he composed himself and when Archer felt he was ready he indicated with a nod that T'Pol could continue. He was relieved that she was not keen to make eye contact as his emotional reaction was not something he wished her to pick up on.

Although T'Pol was reluctant to discuss this topic she decided that openness would help her case. She kept her gaze on a spot just to the left of the captain's shoulder as she explained further.

"I only know of mate bonds from my study of ancient pre-Surak writings. They speak of an intimate telepathic connection between a husband and wife being nurtured until it can become a permanent bond at the first time of mating. This bond is supposed to remain strong and constant even when the mates are separated from each other by a great distance."

More and more questions kept crowding Archer's mind as he tried to get to grips with this startling news. He already knew that he wanted to believe that this was true because it meant that Trip was alive after all. Then he remembered that both Trip and T'Pol's DNA had disappeared from sick bay and armed with this new information, the possibility hit him that there might be sinister reasons behind that incident.

"Hope you don't mind me asking, but just how long have you two…", Archer racked his brain to come up with the right term, until lamely he was forced to finish the sentence with, "…been together?"

T'Pol regarded Archer wondering at the relevance of this question which she thought unnecessarily intrusive. However she needed to show that she was co-operating in order to get what she wanted from him so she replied, "We have been bond mates for only a short time."

Archer felt some relief that this appeared to be a recent development which made it unlikely that they had been targeted due to their relationship. This was definitely not the best time to pursue this issue when there was a rescue to be planned. However there was still something else about what T'Pol had told him that he could not understand, "But how does it work between you two, we Humans don't have telepathic abilities, do we?"

"I can assure you that the bond between us is real, Captain. When I could no longer feel his presence I came to the conclusion that he had died. I now realize that it is possible his injuries and the fact he does not have inborn telepathic abilities led me to believe this. While I was meditating I became aware of his presence and then I heard his voice, it was very weak but I am certain that he is alive. He told me that Ensign Mayweather is also with him."

With that information Archer realized that he had a purpose again and that made him feel revitalized. He had just been handed the chance to get two of the missing members of his family back. A major concern was that they were as much as thirty-six hours away from the location where Trip and Travis had been lost. There was also another problem which he needed T'Pol to be aware of: "I asked for a long range scan of the anomaly field before I left the bridge and that showed that it is still active although at its optimum size. We won't be able to get anywhere close to the last known position of their shuttlepod."

"All I need is for you to get me as close as possible to where he is, and I will then be able to compensate for his weakness and maintain our connection. Then I can ascertain his exact location."

Archer nodded at T'Pol to give his agreement to her plan and without further consideration he activated the comm once more, "Helm come about, set co-ordinates to return to the anomaly field immediately. Engineering, warp speed; Lieutenant Kelby, I want you to push the engines as hard as you can."


	9. Chapter 9

**Communication**

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* * *

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**Chapter Nine**

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* * *

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Although Hoshi admitted that her new rank, Lieutenant Sato, had a nice ring to it, she still had not come to terms with her recent promotion, even though she was relishing the extra responsibility that came with it. It had not helped that she knew Captain Archer's decision to reorganize the senior officer posts had been forced on him by the loss of Trip and Travis.

Though at that moment Hoshi had a more pressing problem to keep her mind off her recent promotion and the feeling _Enterprise _was going to tear herself apart if the ship didn't slow down soon. Based on her last update from the helm officer they were due to reach the anomaly field in approximately seven hours as long as they maintained warp speed at 3.5. The ship had been travelling at warp 2 until they had about turned so they were certainly making up time but the tremors she could feel underfoot and the creaking noise as the ship, which was still not fully operational, strained to meet what was being asked of her was scary.

Hoshi's current mission was to try and reach out to one of the female aliens who had just been brought out of a drug induced coma, and who at that moment looked very bewildered and scared. The Doctor had decided that it was best to err on the side of caution so he had restrained the female's arms and legs to the bio-bed before waking her up. He had explained that this was only a precaution in case she reacted violently to being in a strange environment, and in the hope it would reduce the chance of her injuring herself or others.

However Hoshi was wondering if this decision had been counterproductive because as soon as the female realized that she was tied down she had chosen to lie still and keep her eyes tightly closed. This had given Hoshi her second chance to get a good look at the female's face since she had been transported onboard the ship. This time the angry plasma burns which had disfigured the left side of her face were completely gone and replaced by regenerated skin which meant that there was no longer a physical trace of her trauma. Hoshi estimated that she was not much older than her and would be regarded as beautiful regardless of which species she belonged too, with her symmetrical features which were, to borrow one of T'Pol's phrases, aesthetically pleasing.

Hoshi could understand what it must look like to the frightened female; she was surrounded by strangers who appeared to be treating her as a prisoner. So what reason would she have to want to communicate with those she considered her jailors? Still as communication was her area of expertise, Hoshi had tried her hardest to reach out to the silent alien, without any success. So she changed tack and became as silent as the female, in the hope that, if given the chance, she might decide to make the first move. As Hoshi waited for a sign from the alien, she found herself mulling over the unbelievable news about Trip and Travis. She had prepared herself for the extremely difficult task of speaking at their joint memorial service that day, and instead she was part of the mission to rescue them. This change was difficult for her to make sense of; Archer had been so convinced that they were gone, and she wondered what could have happened to change his mind so completely?

Caught off guard as the ship lurched violently in protest at the speed it was being forced to maintain, Hoshi grabbed hold of one of the curtains screening the alien female's bed and her eyes darted up to the ceiling expecting to see cracks starting to appear along its gleaming surface. While she was relieved to find that there was no visible damage it seemed unlikely that they could maintain this speed for much longer especially if they wanted to arrive at their destination in one piece.

As she relaxed her grip on the curtain she became aware of a subtle change in the muffled humming noise that was always present throughout the ship when the warp engines were on line; it sounded less strained to her sensitive ears. _Enterprise _had indeed been forced to reduce her speed.

Shortly afterwards Hoshi heard the doors to the sick bay open and then she recognized the voice of Captain Archer who was in a low conversation with Phlox just beyond the curtained off medical bay. She realized that he had come to check in on her progress and was immediately disappointed that she had not to been able to make any headway.

They continued their hushed discussion for a few more minutes before Phlox carefully pulled back the curtain and peered in, and on seeing Hoshi's glum face, he entered followed by the captain. Archer strode in and it seemed to Hoshi, that his revitalized personality dominated the small area. He was a completely different man from the one she had talked with yesterday when their conversation had all been about the death of loved ones. Whatever had happened to bring him back to life, she could see that he was fully committed to their mission. She fervently hoped that they would be able to save Trip and Travis, not just for her sake, but so that Archer didn't have to mourn them a second time.

Archer regarded the alien female who was trying so very hard to pretend to be asleep, before he turned his attention to Hoshi, "Have you learnt anything about our guest, Lieutenant?"

He had a grin on his face as he said her new rank as if Archer knew that she was having difficulty getting used to it. Cheered by his welcome good spirits Hoshi decided to play along with his attempt to tease her, "No, Sir, you might as well divest me of my new rank because I've failed to make any progress. Anyway when we get Trip and Travis back I'll be happy to just be Ensign Sato again!"

Archer responded with an affection which was obvious from the tone of his voice, "It was about time you got a promotion, you deserve it Hoshi; the extra pip suits you! So you'll just have to get used to it."

"I concur with the captain, Lieutenant!" Phlox added as he beamed a very broad smile at her.

"Okay, okay, I'm feeling a little outnumbered here!" Hoshi said with real feeling as she failed to hide her embarrassment at being the centre of attention.

Abruptly Archer's attitude changed and he became the man leading a critical mission as he announced, "I've had to order a reduction in our speed so it's going to take us longer to reach our objective. I would just like to thank both of you for accepting without question what we are doing. There are aspects of this mission that I am not at liberty to discuss, and I appreciate your support."

Hoshi noticed that Archer had directed his words of thanks to her even though Phlox was also present. She was also aware that Phlox had made a much more emphatic response than she had managed and she wondered if that was because he knew more about what was going on. In a way that thought made her feel more positive, as if the doctor's response was the confirmation she needed that Archer's actions made complete sense; in the absence of any concrete evidence her two friends were alive.

Then Hoshi suddenly remembered that the alien female had been ignored the whole time they had been talking. Embarrassed by her own behaviour she started to check the settings of her translation PADD. She could sense for an uncomfortable moment that Archer was regarding her and then as if he had suddenly realized why he was there, he gently touched her arm to get her attention and then he said to her in a low voice: "I'm sorry Hoshi that was rude of me when you are in the middle of an important mission of your own. What have you tried so far?"

With gratitude Hoshi grasped the opportunity that she had been gifted, "Thank you Sir, I've used a number of different strategies but if I can't get her to talk, I can't start to process her language."

Then out of the corner of her eye, Hoshi noticed that the alien had surreptitiously opened her eyes and appeared to be listening with curiosity to what Hoshi was saying. She hoped that this was a sign that the female was feeling less threatened and it encouraged Hoshi to suggest a possible solution to the problem.

"It might help if she was released from the restrains, it would demonstrate that our intentions are friendly."

Before Archer could agree to this course of action he directed a question at Phlox "Is it possible she is unable to speak due to a medical condition?"

"No Captain, even though she has not uttered a sound since she regained consciousness; I can find no medical reason for her silence. I agree that removing the restraints might help her to trust our intentions."

As the conversation continued around where she lay, the female's eyes had taken in each speaker in turn. To Hoshi she seemed like a cornered animal that would be ready to bolt as soon as she was given the chance. Releasing her was going to be risky but Hoshi knew they had to do something. The Captain must have been thinking along the same lines because he suggested that he would stand on the other side of the bio-bed from her, presumably to block it off in case the female tried to escape that way.

When they were both in position Phlox started by releasing the arm restraints, which provoked no reaction from the supine female. However as soon as he had taken off her ankle restraints, she behaved as Hoshi expected, moving quickly to swing her legs around and over the edge of the bio-bed. Phlox started to move towards her as the alien's feet hit the floor. Although instead of being able to make a run for it, she seemed startled to find that her legs lacked the strength to hold her weight as they crumbled underneath her. She scrambled with her hands to get a firm hold of the bio-bed as her body started to slip towards the deck. The female would have landed in a heap on the floor had Phlox not caught her in time. Then as he struggled to get a better hold of her body she lashed out wildly at him with her fists.

Archer immediately rushed to Phlox's aid grabbing hold of the female from behind and dragging her away from the doctor. Ignoring the punches she was aiming at his body, Archer lifted her up with one arm supporting her back and the other holding her at the knees. As he was trying to get a good hold of her, the female found exposed skin, just above his collar, and bit down so hard he jerked back in pain.

"What the…she's just bitten me, Phlox!" Archer exclaimed as he managed to throw her over his shoulder to try and keep her away from any other sensitive parts of his body. Once secured there, she continued to rain blows on his back which Archer was pleased were mostly ineffective. He could feel dampness where her teeth had broken through his skin which indicated he was bleeding.

_Wonderful__, another ungrateful alien, _Archer cursed to himself, as he felt indignant at being caught off guard.

A MACO private quietly entered the enclosed area following Phlox's request for assistance, while the doctor cautiously approached Archer and the struggling captive so that he could apply a temporary bandage to the bite wound.

"Perhaps it would be better if we were to restrain her again?" Phlox suggested as he quickly backed away out of the reach of the alien's wildly flailing legs.

"I think that's a great idea. I'm going to need help though," Archer commented through gritted teeth, gesturing to the MACO to stand by to assist in returning the silent but violent alien female to the bio-bed.

"Is that really necessary?" Hoshi asked the concern evident by the tone of her voice, that recent events had disastrously diminished the possibility of successful communication with the alien. Then she had an idea that she felt might just work, "What if we let her see the other female, then she might understand that we are trying to help, not harm her."

Grimly hanging onto the wriggling bundle Archer could only nod his agreement with this idea. Hoshi reached up to pull back the curtain and reveal the other alien female lying unconscious in the next bio-bed. Archer then swung round so that his reluctant passenger could see what was going on. Instantly she stopped struggling and along with the others stared at the other member of her kind who appeared to be peacefully asleep. The only indication that there might be anything wrong with the sleeping beauty could be ascertained in the streams of vital data displayed on the medical monitor mounted on the wall behind where she lay.

The conscious female breathed out a low soft sigh, the first sound that she had been heard to make, and then she started pointing urgently towards her compatriot. Phlox pulled a chair across and placed it beside the other bio-bed. Then Archer carried her over and as gently as he could, lowered his charge onto the chair.

As he carefully pulled away from her, Archer could not escape the intensity of her gaze and it made him feel extremely uncomfortable, particularly because she continued to stare at him even when he had backed right away to stand beside Phlox.

Meanwhile, un-noticed by the female, Hoshi had moved in closer and was holding out the communication PADD in front of her to capture any words the female might say.

The alien reached out to touch the motionless hand of the other female which was closest to her, and then gently she leaned in to cradle the limp appendage to her cheek muttering something indistinct but heartfelt in her own language. With tears rolling down her face, she turned to Hoshi and spoke a few more words, and it seemed from the intonation as though she was asking a question or stating a concern.

"I need more", Hoshi said pointing at the PADD. To try and gave her some encouragement to speak, she pointed a finger at her chest and continued, "My name is Hoshi," and then tapping her chest she slowly repeated, "Ho…shi."

The alien nodded to indicate she understood and then copied her, "Ho…shi."

Suddenly she became very animated and exclaimed, "Esilia, Esilia!" as she pointed at herself and smiled.

Then the realization that her alien captors were friendly prompted a torrent of excited words from Esilia. After a brief analysis Hoshi was able to decipher some of the meanings of the sounds and she began, haltingly at first, to respond in the alien's own language which brought forth frantic happy nods, smiles and yet more words from their guest. Hoshi was thoroughly in her element; completely engaged in her area of expertise.

Fascinated by their interaction Archer stood back and watched them make progress to understand each other until a message came from Hess to tell him that he was needed in main engineering.

"Great work Lieutenant Sato!" Archer exclaimed, as he walked towards the female called Esilia whose eyes were once again firmly anchored on him. He thrust out his hand in a greeting and she regarded it briefly before deciding to trust him and placed her hand in his outstretched one.

"Welcome aboard _Enterprise_, Esilia, I'm pleased to meet you. I am the captain and my name is Jonathan Archer,"

Archer then turned away and started to walk briskly towards the sick bay doors as Hoshi translated his words for Esilia.

"Captain, your wound, "Phlox shouted after him.

"I promise I'll come back later, "Archer shouted without breaking his stride to exit sick bay.

* * *

Masaro lay out on his bunk staring at the ceiling while sulking at the injustice of his situation. Captain Archer had told him to make good use of his ten days of solitary to consider his actions. He smiled bitterly to himself because he was certainly following that order to the letter. His blood still boiled at the wrong that had been done to him. All he needed to do was touch the collar of his uniform and feel the faint impression left behind by the metal pip that had once signified his rank as an Ensign. His crime had been to stop some alien scum from taking advantage of a Human female and it angered him that he had been demoted for that.

He didn't know the fate of Willis, his partner in crime, although he often heard sounds coming from the cell next to his, as though someone was pacing back and forward in the narrow space.

The only thing that broke up the monotony of his day was a regular delivery of meals, all of which were served through a low slot in the transparent door by an armed and blank faced MACO. So when he heard the outer door to the brig slide open Masaro was so bored he didn't bother to move a muscle. He just listened for the sounds that would indicate his barely eaten lunch which had been left by the opening, had been pulled out to be replaced by yet another meal.

However Masaro instantly sprang to life as soon as he realized the door to his cell was being activated. He sat up and was surprised to find himself looking at Lieutenant Reed who was holding a tray on which he presumed there was yet another unappetizing meal.

Unsure of the reason for the visit, Masaro quickly swung his legs around to the floor and stood up to make sure that he wasn't caught at any disadvantage. Reed just stood there silently and continued to stare at him. Un-nerved by his behaviour, Masaro pointed up at the small monitor behind him in the corner of the cell.

"I'm currently serving ten days of solitary _Lieutenant_. I thought you were the sort of man who was a stickler for the rules but I can see that I will need to spell it out to you. Solitary means that I am _not_ allowed visitors."

Reed, who was irritated by the emphasis Masaro had put on his rank, chose to repay the prisoner's sarcasm in kind, "Lose the attitude, _crewman,_ I'm here to ensure you don't forget that I know all about you and that I'll be keeping a close eye on you. For your information, anyone monitoring this cell at this moment will only see _you_ lying on _your_ bunk."

"You haven't done a very good job of watching me so far. You weren't there to stop me seeking justice on behalf of humanity, were you _Sir_?"

Angered by his cheek, Reed tightened his grip on the tray until his knuckles turned white with the effort. He was determined not to be provoked into violence by this insolent pup, even if that meant he ended up cracking the tray.

Masaro was really enjoying this; he found that he had missed contact with other Humans to the extent that fencing with the obnoxious Lieutenant was engaging. It was obvious to him that Reed had kept what he knew about his actions to himself and regardless of his current circumstances that knowledge made him feel as though he was untouchable. Although it irked him that he did not know what Reed's reason was for keeping quiet.

Having taken time to calm his temper, Reed decided to enter the fray again with a probing question, "You told me that you didn't have a problem with Phlox."

Masaro looked away as he started to sober up from his power trip and actually took time to consider his response to that question. He wanted to say that that was before Phlox had put his filthy alien paws on Corporal Cole. To scream out what was the truth; that if _they _are going to survive _Humans _would have to stick together. To warn the fool that any aliens invited on board would take over, take our women, dilute our blood with their poison, and that when the time came for _Enterprise_ to act, _Lieutenant,_ there wouldn't be anything resembling a Human left to carry out their mission. Masaro wanted to say all of this and more but somehow he managed to get control of himself while inwardly seething with rage. He had enough presence of mind to realize that it was a dangerous game he was playing - he could not afford to test just how far it was safe to push Reed before he was forced to act on his old threat of going to the Captain.

Masaro had already accepted that he had nothing left to loose but his determination for revenge required some measure of unsupervised movement about _Enterprise _and he wouldn't get that if he continued to shoot his mouth off.

"I didn't have a problem with Phlox until I saw him touch Amanda, I mean Corporal Cole, Sir. I thought he was coming onto her. I admit I'm attracted to her, so when I saw what he doing I saw red. However now I realize that I misread the situation. I am truly sorry for my actions Lieutenant."

Then Masaro lifted his head and met Reed's gaze.

Reed really wanted to believe that Masaro was simply jealous; that he had wanted Corporal Cole and had been angered by another's attentions towards her. However that excuse did not wash with what he had found out about Masaro's blind hatred of other species. Reed could sense from the man's demeanor that regardless of his motives he felt that he had been hard done by; the regretful tone in his voice was contradicted by the muted defiance in his eyes.

That meant that he was still dangerous and Reed knew the right thing to do would be to confess all to Captain Archer but that option had become impossible; too much time had passed since he had discovered Masaro's treachery. He had been caught between his loyalties to two separate organizations, one which could only operate in complete secrecy. He knew that he could not break his vow of silence so it had to be down to him to protect the people he cared about from this low life.

It was difficult for him to cope with his disgust at sharing the same air as Masaro. Not wanting to listen to any more of his lies, Reed abruptly started to leave only to be forced to stop when he remembered the tray of food he still held. He almost tipped the plate onto Masaro's bunk as he dropped the tray onto the bunk and then he bolted from the cell without a backward glance as though Masaro might contaminate him if he remained in that place a second longer.

For a long time afterwards Masaro chose to stand where he was and stare at the cell door that barred his way. He waited for the call that never came; the one that would tell him the game was up and that the captain was ready to judge him for the last time.

* * *

"They are inside a sphere"

"Can't Travis be more specific?" Archer asked, failing to hide his exasperation that this unusual method of communication was taking too much time to get useful information.

T'Pol, who was seated cross legged on the deck of her quarters, turned her head to give him a subtle but loaded look which he interpreted as meaning either, _let's see how much better you could do_ or _what did I do to end up with such stupid beings,_ both possibilities made him wince, "Sorry, T'Pol, I know you're doing the best you can."

"Indeed, Captain."

Archer glanced over at Phlox who was perched on T'Pol's bunk; ready to provide her with medical assistance if it was required. He slowly shook his head at Archer to indicate that he needed to show more patience. Archer wished he could show a little more control but _Enterprise _had been waiting in position just beyond the influence of the anomaly field for at least forty-five minutes and all he knew so far was that his two friends were trapped inside a sphere.

T'Pol understood Archer's frustration with their progress; she was having difficulty controlling the fear that this would not work and that she really would lose Trip this time. She had remained secluded and in deep mediation for the whole of the return journey. By ensuring that she kept her mind focused in her tranquil zone she had maintained a slender link to Trip which she had concentrated on nurturing so that it would be as strong as possible when they moved closer to his position. To take this action she had to deny herself sustenance and rest so that she could channel all of her available energy to this one task. Her psyche had taken a real battering as Trip's condition had fluctuated; at times the contact had been almost too much for her as through their link, he had blasted her with his pain and fear. Most of the time though, she had spent hanging onto a sliver of energy that was his life force as if she was the only one who could stop Trip from falling to his death from the top of a very high cliff. She could not remember how many times during the journey he had almost left her but each time it had become harder to maintain her foothold on the crumbling cliff top while hanging on to that tenuous thread that was her connection to her mate.

Although their contact had become stronger as soon as T'Pol managed to wake Trip, the struggle remained because she had to help him transmit information to her. He was confused and tired and each word he was transmitting took an age to trickle through to her. T'Pol was also aware that her prolonged effort had almost sapped all of her strength just when she needed more energy to communicate directly with him. However she could take comfort from the knowledge that all of her hard work meant his condition had been stabilized.

While T'Pol concentrated on the task at hand; all Archer could do was sit as quietly as possible on a cushioned seat positioned underneath the large Vulcan symbol that dominated her quarters. The mediation candles that surrounded T'Pol flickered as the air trembled from proximity to the heat from the flames that threw out a living light that danced around the room.

Archer was surprised that there was not even the slightest hint of the waxy scent he remembered from the candles that his mother had continued to light for many years, in memory of his father. Still, the candle light was evocative of his mother's nightly ritual of lighting a beacon to combat the darkness, which took him back to that painfully sad time of his life. He had never understood his mother's actions, which had commenced after the funeral. She had said that it brought her solace but it made no sense to Archer because his father's illness had actually taken him from both of them long before his actual death.

This time T'Pol felt as if she was being suffocated and she had to struggle to pull herself back to reality. The weight of the words her mate had given her were pressing her down onto the ground and as she surfaced and her eyes shot open she had to lean forward as if winded. Then T'Pol gulped down a mouthful of air and gasped as she reported, "The shuttlepod was pulled into the sphere. They are in life support modules located at the centre of the sphere and Travis has been in the control room. He intends to find a way to shut down the anomaly field and the sphere shield controls so that we can locate and then enter the sphere."

"Tell him to go ahead and that we are in position at the outer edge of the anomaly field."

T'Pol nodded and then she left them to pass on Archer's command. Afterwards she slumped forward, resting her face in her hands, her index fingers pressed firmly against her temples.

"Are you all right?" Archer anxiously asked while Phlox stood up and went over to check on her.

T'Pol felt that her body was so drained and her mind so weary that it was doubtful that she would be able to stand up or even move a single centimeter from where she sat. It was difficult to even formulate a response to the captain's enquiry, "No, maintaining the connection required a great deal of effort, I would like some water."

Phlox poured some water from a jug on her desk into a tumbler and then he put it in T'Pol's outstretched hand. As she grasped it he noted a marked tremble that agitated the surface of the liquid. Careful to ensure that he did not crowd T'Pol and compromise her with his own emotions, Phlox crouched down in front of her, "Here, let me help you."

T'Pol willingly surrendered the glass to him and then Phlox gently tipped it to her mouth so she could take some much needed sips.

"Thank you for your assistance," T'Pol quietly said as Phlox sat back on his hunches and put the glass down beside her.

Archer suddenly announced, "We're going to rescue Trip and Travis!"

Then he stood up ready to head for the bridge, his hope for the future confirmed by the news that they were both still very much alive.

"Captain, it was not only the interference from the anomaly which made it extremely difficult to maintain the connection, Trip's condition is critical so we must get to them soon."

Archer held T'Pol's gaze for a heart wrenching moment and then he was gone, exiting her quarters at a run.

T'Pol stared into the flame of the candle closest to her for a time as she gathered in her final shreds of strength. Then she focused on the light and returned her mind to their link so that she could concentrate on one final message.

*_I yearn to touch and be touched by thee so stay strong for a little longer my beloved_ *


	10. Chapter 10

**Communication

* * *

**

**Chapter Ten**

**

* * *

**

The first sound Hoshi heard was a low modulating hissing noise which then rapidly increased in volume only to be overtaken by a sensation so intense and powerful she had to tear out her earpiece because she was frightened of being deafened. She swiveled round in her chair to meet the concerned stare of Captain Archer. Hoshi then noticed that Lieutenant Rae was leaning forward and scrutinizing the science station monitors intently while holding up her hand to indicate that she needed time to analyse what she had seen before making a report.

Finally Rae sat back in her seat and with a puzzled look on her face met Hoshi's gaze, "Did you get something as well?"

"Some sort of energy burst targeted at _Enterprise,_ it used our transmission frequencies, so yes I got it and it felt as though it was blasting right through my head." Hoshi replied as she gently cradled the ear that had been assaulted.

"Rae I need a report, what the hell happened?" ordered Archer, as he walked over to the science station from the command chair.

"A powerful stream of energy entered _Enterprise _and then bounced back however I have not been able to locate either the source or where the energy was targeted Sir. I can't even identify the composition of the energy produced although I can report that there is no damage to the ship."

"Could we have been caught by an energy flare discharged by the anomaly field?"

"No Sir, I have compared the energy emitted by the field with this targeted burst and the signature is completely different."

Lieutenant Reed interrupted with a report from the tactical station, "Sir, my scans of the anomaly field have detected that an isolated area has started to exhibit a different and more systemic pattern of disturbance."

"Okay Malcolm, I'd say that's our cue to go and investigate, transmit the co-ordinates for that area to Ensign Thomson. Let's hope it's a sign that Travis has found a way to shut down the anomaly field."

"Aye Sir, co-ordinates transmitted to the helm."

"In your own time Thomson, just keep the ship at a safe distance from the outer edges of the field."

"Aye, aye Sir," Thomson responded as he plotted the safest course then added in a little extra distance from the anomaly field to ensure there was a margin of error in his favour. He coaxed _Enterprise _on impulse drive towards the whirling dancing madness of the field debris that filled the view screen_**...**_

Travis stopped at the entrance of the fully operational control room and warily took in the scene in front of him. All of the stations inside the room were lit up with banks of flashing coloured lights indicating continued activity. When he had first seen the room like this he had noticed that one of the stations was smeared with the same rust coloured stains he had found in the dormitory. As he had investigated, Travis had been repeatedly drawn to this station as if the blood split over it marked it out as having a special importance.

After Trip had made telepathic contact with T'Pol; a concept which he would never have believed if he had not witnessed his friend's reaction, he had spent hours in this room. He had pressed all of the seemingly active controls and buttons without any affect. Then after going to talk the matter over with Trip he had prized open the panels beneath the consoles and crawled about on the floor checking the paths of the numerous conduits and wires that fed the machines. They had decided that there must be a central locking system, a code of some sort that he would have to find in order to gain control of the systems.

However Travis had quickly realized that he lacked the skills necessary for this job; as he was not an engineer he could not make sense of the mechanics and he was no linguist so the alien letters might as well be a form of decoration for all the good they were to him. All he could rely on was his determination and patience, both qualities which were essential to be a good helmsman. Then for some unknown reason the control room had started to object to his presence there.

Travis had returned to the station where a being had been killed leaving behind the mark of their final moments of life spread out over the metallic surface. He had been trying to decide which button he should press when he heard a buzzing sound as though an angry insect had entered the room. Travis had swung round and his gaze had immediately been drawn to the round disc at the centre of the ceiling. A dot of orange light was moving at speed around the outer ring of the flat white disc creating a mechanical crackling hiss. Travis had tried to remain as still as possible in case this phenomenon was the reason he had been transported from the control room the first time he had been there.

Suddenly the dot of orange light had slowed and it came to a stop opposite Travis' position and then the whole disc started to glow red.

"Shit!" Travis had exclaimed as he shuffled to his left only for the ominous dot to follow his movement. Not knowing what to expect Travis had then decided to stand his ground ignoring the message his hammering heart was sending him that he really needed to make a run for it. A translucent wall of orange light was emitted from the intense red dot which reached from floor to ceiling on his right side and barred his only exit from the control room. Travis had then braced himself knowing that escape was no longer an option as the wall of light advanced steadily towards him, causing the surfaces it came into contact with to spark. However when it moved across his body he was surprised to find that it was pleasant sensation which made his skin tingle. He had guessed that he was been scanned because as soon as the wall of light had passed over him it disappeared. Then once more the red dot had started to whirl around the outside edge of the disc. Only then had Travis realised that he had been holding his breath and assuming that the danger had gone he exhaled deeply and with relief returned to his examination of the station consol.

The flash of light had captured him without warning in the brilliance of its glare which had left him stunned and powerless to react or take evasive action. For a few seconds it had seemed to Travis that his body had been lifted off the ground and he was floating suspended in mid air then a forward momentum caused his body to be flung against the end of the table on which Trip was trying to rest. Travis had been disorientated for a few seconds before the sickening realisation had hit him that he was back in the medical centre.

Two further attempts to investigate the control room had ended in a similar fashion except that each time Travis felt the computer brain that controlled this facility was becoming more and more irate with his persistence. He got this notion from the increasing force that was being used to dump him back in the medical centre. Even Trip seemed to have become bored with Travis materialising to disturb his rest at regular intervals because he had given up offering any concern or attempts at humour.

Travis remained hovering at the entrance to the control room as he desperately tried to formulate a way of getting into the room and then being able to stay there long enough to do some good**…**

"We are in position Sir," Ensign Thomson advised as he allowed himself to relax momentarily, his body easing ever so slightly back in the seat attached to the helm station. He needed to release the nervous tension that had built up across his shoulders and the back of his neck as he guided the ship to the required location. Even at this distance Thomson could feel an obvious pull from the anomaly and he knew Engineering would have to compensate by supplying extra energy to the impulse engines to ensure they held their current position.

Then Lieutenant Reed's voice interrupted the tense silence, "Sir there are areas of open space appearing inside the anomaly, the scans indicate that it is being pulled apart along a line that dissects this section of the field."

Puzzled by this information Captain Archer glanced over at him as he manned his station monitoring the data from the scans, "Is this change only restricted to this sector?"

"Aye Sir, the majority of the anomaly field has not been affected in this way."

Archer activated the comm control on his command chair, "Commander T'Pol report immediately to the bridge."

Suddenly everyone on the bridge ceased what they were doing as they became transfixed by the scene on the view screen. They watched as the anomaly field started to contract violently to form an extremely narrow channel through the field. The force that was squeezing and pulling the anomaly apart caused the rocks and debris contained within the field to shoot with considerable force into the surrounding area on either side of the rift. Then the clear space that had formed started to widen until it was large enough for _Enterprise_ to travel between two sheer towering walls that were holding back the active anomaly field.

T'Pol arrived on the bridge while this process was happening and as she waited to speak to the captain she found it therapeutic to examine the unfolding process from a scientist's perspective as she considered the massive resources and energy needed to exert that level of control. It helped relieve her concern for Trip for a moment to deduce that the power required to control the violent anomaly was inordinately excessive.

Archer was finally able to drag his eyes away from a vision he still found hard to believe even though it had developed right in front of him. He acknowledged T'Pol who was standing patiently beside his chair with her hands clasped behind her back. He then stood up and leaned as close as he dared to her in such a public place so that he could quietly ask, "How is he doing?"

"He still lives, "was T'Pol's brief reply which was also delivered in hushed tones.

Watching them, Hoshi only managed to catch the gist of the Captain's question and as she was aware that no messages had been received via the communications system, she wondered exactly what method of communication Commander T'Pol was utilising. However there was no time to ponder the matter further as the captain started issuing orders.

"Lieutenant Reed you are with me, contact Major Hayes and Doctor Phlox and tell them to meet us on the hanger deck. Lieutenant Sato open communication channels and see if you can establish contact with Travis. Commander T'Pol, you will take command _Enterprise_, bring the ship through this channel and once the sphere is in your sights locate a point of entry."

He got the expected chorus of responses accepting his orders but he was heartened that Hoshi decided to add an impromptu "good luck!" to her acknowledgement.

As he left the bridge Archer willed that this mission be successful for all their sakes**…**

"Cannot verify, cannot verify."

Travis was petrified with fear on hearing the disembodied voice coming from behind him. His body was flooded with adrenalin as he twisted round to see that the entire disc had turned a vibrant orange colour and the dot that was facing him was pulsing from orange to red, then from vivid red to a deep dark brown.

It was the first time that this automated computer system had surprised him in this way and it was made worse by the fact that it was using the same synthetic version of his voice that the medical centre computer had used. It was another ominous development and Travis waited horror struck as the dot continued to pulse with darker and darker hues.

"Restricted area, no clearance, restricted area, no clear…"

"My friend is injured and needs help," Travis pleaded over the monotonous tone of the computer as he felt despair at his lack of progress. He was also worried that the rust coloured stains were in fact an indication of the fate of previous intruders. The thought had crossed his mind that it was the computer mind that had actually killed all of the beings who had once resided there. He remembered hearing a story of a computer on an out-stationed world that had later been discovered to have developed a fatal flaw in its reasoning processers. In a terrible disaster that had cost thousands of beings their lives, the computer system had flushed the air out of the living quarters without warning because it had become irritated by the fact the occupants' were exhaling what it had decided were unacceptable levels of H2O into the artificial environment. The computer had made its judgement in a perfectly logical way; the level of humidity, even though it remained well within permitted limits, was a potential future hazard so it had acted to stop an attack on its continued viability.

However Travis was also aware that he had not yet been zapped back to the medical centre which could be either a good or very bad sign. He decided to try and continue to communicate with the computer mind, "Our ship, _Enterprise,_ is on its way to rescue us. Please understand that we are no threat to you. We just want to be allowed to leave!"

"The controller is coming, will help friend."

_Oh damn, that's not good, with our luck the controller, whoever the hell he is, will not be pleased to find us here,_ Travis thought as a surge of panic left him feeling like he was clutching at a very slippery slender straw. Although he desperately tried to divert the artificial mind from this course of action and convince it that _Enterprise _was all the help they needed, "There is someone on my ship who can help him. We definitely do _not_ need your controller's help, please let… "

"The controller is coming, will help friend, you must leave restricted area."

"Disable the anomaly field and lower your shields so _Enterprise_ can find us!" Travis shouted out, his frustration finally spilling over at the pointlessness of speaking to an artificial intelligence still obsessed with a nameless all powerful "controller". Then he purposefully strode to the nearest consol and started randomly hitting buttons. He was not surprised to feel what was becoming a familiar sensation and the next thing he was aware of was his body hitting the floor of the medical centre very fast and hard**…**

Captain Archer was piloting the shuttlepod with Reed sitting behind him and Doctor Phlox and Major Hayes taking up the passenger seats. They were all wearing EV suits and two extra ones were hanging up at the back of the pod. Archer and Reed were running through their last checks when T'Pol's voice came through on the comm, "Captain we have reached the sphere and are in orbit around it. It is of exactly the same design as the others we have encountered therefore locating the entry point will be relatively straightforward. However the channel we travelled through closed behind us so once we have retrieved our crewmembers it will be necessary to ascertain a way to either reopen the channel or disable the anomaly field."

"Understood Commander, decompress the hanger bay, I'm commencing launch procedure now."

When the pod emerged from the safety of _Enterprise_ it was dwarfed by the oppressively massive grey metallic sphere as it moved towards the entry portal. For such an impressive structure the doors that provided the only access were extremely easy to open. As had happened on the first occasion they had encountered a sphere, a well aimed blast from a phase cannon disabled the locking device allowing the doors to slide open.

Once inside Archer could see that the sphere had the same internal design as the others they had entered. As its main purpose was to generate the vast amounts of energy required to alter the Expanse until eventually it would meet the needs of beings from a different dimension and time, the interior was of a purely functional design. The first sphere that they had quantum scanned had been found to be almost one thousand years old so the changes that would make this area of space inhospitable for the species living there had already taken considerable time and energy. As Archer piloted the pod towards the centre of the sphere he thought again about the idea of disabling or destroying the network of spheres. That action alone would make the Expanse safer to travel and live in but after consultation with his senior officers the idea had been dismissed. By travelling back in time they had already changed the timeline so taking such decisive action would only attract the attention of the sphere builders who could then seek retribution by speeding up the timetable for the Xindi attack on Earth. He could not contemplate an action which could in the end result in _Enterprise _being the cause of the destruction of their home world. So they would have to remain in the shadows, an unnamed vessel in the Expanse waiting for their one true chance to change history by stopping the Xindi probe; an event that should never have happened in the first place.

In this sphere five of the seven fusion reactors were still operational and their energy emissions provided an eerie sizzling blue light to guide them through the interior. Gigantic struts zigzagged across the sphere to add strength to the outer structure and directly below him Archer located the habitation modules nestling in the junction of three of the widest support girders. He directed the pod to descend, aiming straight for a landing pad located next to the living quarters.

As he came in to land Archer got his first sight of the battered remains of Shuttlepod One. Involuntarily he gasped in horror at the state of the tiny vessel and then became aware that Reed was leaning against his chair to get a better look at the crippled pod which lay splayed open below them; like a dissected lab rat after a biology class. Archer noted that the top half of the pod had been discarded alongside the main body leaving limited space for them to land safely.

"Reed return to your seat, I'm going to have to land close to Shuttlepod One," Archer ordered, his mind still reeling with renewed concern at the ordeal Trip and Travis had gone through.

Archer could hear Reed at work trying to contact Travis as he brought the pod down. It was worrying that there continued to be no response apart from the crackle of static. Hoshi had already reported that she had not managed to get through before they had left _Enterprise_. If as suspected the sphere shields remained in place then _Enterprise_ would be also be out of reach to the away team so there would be no backup if they got into any trouble. Archer knew that this was definitely not how he had wanted this mission to play out as he ordered everyone to make final checks on their EV suits and prepare to leave the relative safety of the pod. The image of the broken Shuttlepod One played on his mind and he felt compelled to allow his superstitious nature make a another silent plea to any higher deity that their mission would succeed.

Archer, Phlox, Reed and Major Hayes then carefully made their way along the narrow gangway that linked the landing area to the modules; Archer and Hayes were both carrying a spare EV suit while Phlox was in charge of the precious medical kit. From where they were, the monumental structure of the sphere towered over them with the vivid light from the reactors casting eerie dancing shadows around the landing party.

Ahead of them was a outer metallic door with a round hatch cut into its top half. Hayes and Reed went forward to examine the locking mechanism which consisted of a small square pad with nine buttons arranged in three vertical rows, each displaying a different symbol. Archer walked over to join them and then ran his hand around the small hatch to see if he could find a means of access, but without any luck.

"Any suggestions Lieutenant…Major?"

"Sir, you were in contact with Travis, and he was able to open up a way through the anomaly field. Why can't we contact Travis again and tell him we're here?" Major Hayes asked, while continuing his examination of the area around the door.

"Unfortunately Major that means of communication is no longer available to us."

Hayes cast Archer a puzzled glance but he decided not to probe further and instead offered up another option," Then I suggest using force, a burst from a phase rifle should disable the lock."

Reluctantly Reed was forced to agree with Hayes' solution even though it went against the grain, given his continuing enmity towards the MACO Major, "Sir, we don't have time to try any other means of gaining entry and using force has proved successful before."

"Well I think it could be dangerous to discharge weapons…in here." Phlox noted as he nervously eyed his surroundings.

"And _what_ do you suggest that we do, knock on the door?"

"Major," Archer warned, not liking Hayes' patronizing tone towards Phlox.

"Reed can you scan the living quarters before we start any shooting."

"Aye Sir," Reed said to acknowledge the order, as he activated a scanner and started a sweep of the modules.

He was quick to report back, "No luck Sir, the scans cannot penetrate the outer skin, the modules are heavily protected."

"So Travis may not even know that we are here," Archer stated as he stepped back in a futile search for any other potential access points. "Yes I agree we have no other choice. Hayes, I need you to destroy the locking mechanism, so that we can override it manually."

Major Hayes set down the EV suit he was carrying and made his phase rifle ready. Then just as he was about to pull the trigger the weapon was brutally ripped from his grasp without warning and he could only watch as it spun away from him until it smashed against a metallic strut and then fell straight down into the abyss below. Hayes clutched his aching right hand and arm to his chest as he glared towards the source of the narrow beam of red hot light which had suddenly shot from the panel situated above the doorway to effectively disarm him.

"What the hell was that?" He snarled as he turned back towards the rest of the team just in time to catch their shock filled faces as a wall of orange light swung in towards them.

When the light reached and then passed over Phlox, he was pleased to find that he was still in one piece, as he commented, "I believe we have just been scanned."

Then the outer door leading to the modules swung slowly open. "And we are now being invited in," Archer added as they cautiously walked towards the entrance. There was a small airlock beyond the door. Archer went in first and then beckoned for Phlox to follow him so that he could judge the available space left in the airlock. "There isn't enough space for all of us, not if we want to bring Travis and Trip out together. Reed, Hayes, you will remain outside for now. If I need you, I'll find a way to attract your attention."

As he finished issuing the order, the outer door started to close leaving the two long term antagonists outside cooling their heels**…**

Travis was finally able to pick himself off the floor of the medical centre after getting his breath back. Trip was silent this time and when he went over to check on him it was obvious that he had slipped into an unconscious state. He was worried about his friend's condition and panicked by the news this mysterious controller was apparently going to arrive soon. First and foremost he needed to protect Trip so he decided to search for something to arm himself with. He had already checked the sleeping quarters when he had taken bedding to help Trip feel more comfortable and knew that there were no weapons to be found there.

However there was a small store room behind the kitchen area that had not been completely cleared out. Travis had managed to find food tubes in a wooden crate there that he had forced himself to try in order to quell his increasing hunger and which he found to be just about palatable. Although it had not surprised him that he had been unable to tempt Trip to try the mucky green coloured paste the tubes contained.

He ran to the storeroom and started to rummage through the shelving units for a suitable weapon. Lying among discarded odds and ends was a length of heavy metal pipe and a bent blunt metal implement that could have been used to lever open crates. In the end he selected a length of heavy metal pipe even though it was difficult to hold one handed never mind control; its sheer weight made him feel better and if he hit someone with this, he felt confident it would slow them down. He then took up position in the mess room hiding behind the wall that ran alongside the entrance to the anteroom. Travis did not have too long to wait to hear the sound of inner door of the air lock opening. His heart in his mouth, Travis lifted the metal bar to rest on his shoulder and then prepared himself to launch his attack when the intruder entered the mess hall**…**

As soon as the inner door of the airlock opened Archer checked that the air was breathable and then raised his visor and signaled to Phlox that he could do the same. They looked around the anteroom which was empty apart from a low narrow couch at the far end of the room and Archer who had expected Travis to be there waiting for them was spooked by the eerie silence. He drew his phase pistol in case this was a trap and used hand signals to advise Phlox to wait there while he checked out the next room.

Archer took up position at the left side of the opening which led to the next room. His field of vision was partially obscured by his helmet and as he edged around the doorway the first he knew that something was wrong was when he felt a displacement of the air on his right side and then he watched in shock as a length of metal pipe narrowly missed his shoulder as it shot past him and crashed against the floor. Archer instinctively backed away from his attacker but before he could take up a defensive position he was caught in a partial bear hug.

"I'm so sorry Sir I didn't know it was you!"

Archer put his hands on his assailant's shoulders and gave him a gentle shove so that he would back off and let Archer have a good look at the being who sounded just like Travis. Holding him at arms length Archer was able to ascertain that it was actually Ensign Travis Mayweather. It had been a long time since Archer had felt real happiness and he was able to summon up a broad smile as he greeted his helmsman, "Travis, you have no idea how good it is to see you."

Travis grinned back at Archer as relief flooded through his body that his nightmare was over, "And me you Sir."

"I'll even overlook the fact that you just tried to kill me," Archer said as he gave him a slap on the back and a brief hug.

"But how did you find us, I wasn't able to lower the shields or disable the anomaly…?"

"Well you must have done something because we're here and you're coming home with us as soon as Phlox has assessed Trip."

"Then you'd better come with me Sir; we need to hurry because he's no longer responding, I think he's in a coma."


	11. Chapter 11

**Communication**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

Trip could sense that something was very wrong. He listened intently to the hum of the warp engines with the heightened skill of an experienced and dedicated engineer who knew every single millimetre of the machinery that made the sound which vibrated throughout _Enterprise_. The engines had a rhythm that he knew so well it was as if they had become a living part of him. As he concentrated his mind, the initial uncanny sixth sense he felt became a nagging deep concern. He realised that the engines were sending out a warning that the strain of the warp speed they were being asked to maintain could only lead to catastrophic failure. Instantly he knew what he must do; he had to get main engineering if he was going to have any chance of averting disaster. Trip started to run along what was the longest corridor he had ever seen; it stretched out far into the distance. It felt as though every one of his leg muscles was straining to almost breaking point in order to propel him along as fast as possible in his futile race against the rapidly failing engines.

He knew that all was lost when a crescendo of startling volume reverberated along the tunnel he was running through and the ship began to buck and dive and he started to fall as the warp field violently disintegrated and the ship collapsed around him…

Trip braced himself for the impact he expected to feel when his body had finished spiralling downwards, only for him to feel a sudden jolt as he emerged from unconsciousness and realised he was already lying on a solid surface. Confused and disoriented he opened his eyes and immediately regretted that action as he recoiled against the startling brightness and blurred movement that surrounded him. The sharp intensity of the pain forced him to close his eyes tightly while his head felt like it was swollen to twice its normal size. He desperately reached out to try and locate the source of his agony as his body trembled in shock. Then someone took hold of his hand with a firm grasp and halted his search. He was surprised to be able to sense that the touch of this other person's warm hand was the source of a radiating feeling of calm and peacefulness that had an immediate and profound effect on his mood.

He heard a voice that sounded beautifully familiar as that person then called out to summon another and shortly afterwards he recognised the cold sensation of a hypospray being pressed against the skin of his neck, followed by the gradual numbing effect of a powerful painkiller coursing through his body. Trip was then able to completely relax as he enjoyed his release from pain.

"Commander Tucker, can you hear me?"

Recognizing that he was being addressed Trip carefully opened his eyes a little and was instantly forced to resort to squinting so that he could make out the general shape of the figure looming over him. He wondered why Doctor Phlox felt it necessary to yell at him quite so loudly. He had to construct the words that he wanted to use in his mind before he managed to form them, one by one, in his mouth, "Very…loud…and clear…Doc".

He immediately regretted his attempt to speak as the sounds he made resounded through his brain, bouncing against his skull and made him feel as though his head was being held tight in a vice like grip.

Trip decided that whispering would be a less painful option, "What happened, why does my brain feel like it's about to explode?"

"Two days ago I operated to repair a subdural haematoma; a bleed in your brain. Afterwards I kept you sedated to aid your recovery. The swelling has now reduced sufficiently for you to be brought round safely. You will find that your sight is blurred but it should improve in time. What I now need to ask of you, Commander, is that you endure a period of rest and recuperation in sick bay."

Phlox then reached over and gave Trip's shoulder a gentle squeeze as it was his understanding that in order for Humans to maintain their emotional health, they needed physical contact at times of stress as well as words of reassurance.

Trip had only managed to take in a small part of Phlox's explanation but he was _definitely_ all ears when the good Doctor started to address the other person in close proximity to him, whom he was grateful to for still maintaining a tight hold on his hand.

"Commander T'Pol you must ensure Commander Tucker does not become overtired. I will let the Captain know that he has regained consciousness."

Trip's heart soared as it was confirmed that T'Pol _really_ was there with him and was no longer a seemingly unattainable vision that he had longed to have physically by his side to aid him in his battle against the desolate darkness of his injury. He couldn't help his reaction with his heart rate increasing rapidly due to the feeling of deep happiness he experienced at discovering that he was with T'Pol again.

"Commander, are you all right," Phlox enquired, his concern obvious as the raised readings displayed on the monitor caused him to run a medical scanner over Trip's body.

Trip would have kicked himself, if he had been physically able to attempt that manoeuvre, for allowing his euphoria to stop the Doctor from attending to his other duties. He was very eager to have some time alone with T'Pol so to give Phlox some encouragement to go away, he whispered earnestly, "I'm fine, honest; I'm doing just great Doc."

While he tried to put Phlox's mind at rest he also dared to give T'Pol's hand a small squeeze to reassure her also.

"Doctor Phlox I will let you know immediately if there is any indication that Commander Tucker's condition is worsening." T'Pol stated, completely in agreement with Trip's desire to have some time alone with her.

T'Pol had spent a great deal of time working to repair their fractured bond since Trip had returned to _Enterprise_. As a result she was able to enter his mind with relative ease and give him the gift of peace which then allowed Trip to achieve a pleasant state of natural relaxation. She applied herself to this task at once and T'Pol could tell that she had been successful when the heart monitor slowed sufficiently to please Phlox and make him feel confident about leaving his patient.

Once the curtain around Trip's bed had closed behind Phlox and T'Pol was sure she could not be overhead, she advised, "It will be more restful if we communicate via our bond."

Trip turned his head to look at her and found that he could just about make out the features of her face if he concentrated through the mist that still veiled his sight. Then he was grateful that he could close his eyes again and go back to the place that was their private sanctuary where that he could face a T'Pol he was able to see clearly. As he gazed at her face he sent a heartfelt message *I missed you.*

He could have sworn that her eyes had started to tear up as he moved closer to her and reached out to tenderly cup her face in his hands. He lost himself, staring into her hazel eyes that he could read so well and he felt perfectly happy to stay in that place for the rest of his life. It was T'Pol who broke the enhancement by closing the gap between them; standing on her tiptoes so that her lips were able to reach his to claim a gentle kiss. Then she wrapped her arms around him, holding him in a caress that surrounded him with wonderful sensations of being loved and cared for; he knew at that instant that he had truly made it to his safe haven. The raw and powerful emotions they transmitted and received from each other swirled around and between them, buoying them up on the pure joy of their reunion.

T'Pol had surrendered all logic to let her mind soar along with his. She felt as safe with him as he was in her embrace. The very heart of her being rejoiced in this moment and she held none of her emotions back as she sent her thoughts through to him *I also found that I missed _you_. In fact I did not realise how deeply I missed your presence until I thought you had left me forever. Our bond was still forming when you left me but now that we are reunited I feel that I am finally complete.*

*My love, I promise that I'll never leave you again*

It was a deeply emotional statement that was honestly meant but T'Pol knew that it was unlikely that he could hold to it. A Vulcan life span was so much greater than a Human one and that meant that she would indeed have to face loosing him, one day. T'Pol found that she could not let him make such an impossible contract though she tempered her response with news of a decision she had made, *That is a promise that you cannot keep my mate, but I have resolved that I will not waste a second of the remaining time we have together, I give you that promise. I wish to start by letting you know that I no longer want to hide our relationship from the crew of _Enterprise_ *

*What I meant was that I would do my damndest not put myself in unnecessary danger. I know that the odds are that I will not be around for as long as you, my favourite logical Vulcan. Now the idea of being honest about our relationship with our friends, well that sure sounds good to me, darlin'*

They drew even closer, entwining their minds in a tighter embrace. T'Pol rested her head on Trip's chest for a time and enjoyed the feeling of closeness to the rhythmic sensation of his beating heart.

However as T'Pol immersed all of her senses in appreciating the tender emotions generated by their bond she was having to use more and more energy to maintain the link and could sense that Trip was becoming weary.

*You are tired and there will be time to talk later. I will remain here with you. You must rest now.*

At her command, Trip was content to release his grip on consciousness and with his spirit lifted with pure joy he drifted into a healing sleep. His last thoughts were of T'Pol, his mate, and how wonderful it made him feel that she was there with him.

* * *

Archer was waiting in the armory while the final preparations were made for the funeral service for the Ikaaran male, Ilasco. For almost three days _Enterprise _had been held in orbit around the sphere as engineering away teams worked flat out in the sphere's control room to find a way to disable the anomaly field. To conserve energy _Enterprise_ was running at half speed impulse drive and Archer was spooked by how strangely quiet the ship was.

Apart from the two Ikaaran females, Archer, Hoshi and Corporal Cole were the only other people invited to be part of the mourning party. Hoshi had helped Esilia prepare the ornate funeral banners and the ritual wrappings that they were in the process of covering Ilasco's body with. The writings contained powerful incantations to protect and aid him on his final journey.

Amanda Cole had been asked to attend because she had been with Ilasco when he had drawn his last breath. As a result she had an important rite to perform, and with Hoshi's help she had learnt the sacred Ikaaran chant of farewell. In the centre of all this silent and respectful activity the Ikaaran scientist lay at peace in an open torpedo casing. It was the makeshift coffin that would carry him back into the anomaly field to join the many others of his species that had been lost when their ship was destroyed.

Esilia's older sister Kalen was confined to a wheelchair and she was quietly observing the proceedings; her face pale and filled with sadness while Esilia completed the preparations by wrapping a narrow strip of cloth covered with Ikaaran inscriptions around Ilasco's head.

It was touching to see the gentle way in which Esilia performed these rites. She had explained to Archer that their ship had been part of a desperate evacuation of refugees who were on the loosing side of a brutal planet wide tribal war. Their father, brother and other relations as well as many friends had all died when their ship had been claimed by the expanse. They had also lost treasured possessions and religious artifacts. Archer could tell that this ceremony was not simply about this male although he had been a close friend of their father's; for them it also symbolized everyone and everything that had been so brutally taken from them. Yet Esilia was able to smile as she started to speak about Ilasco and his life. He had been a true and dear friend to her father and was asked to join them in their flight from certain death as he had no family of his own and no other means by which to flee retribution from the winning faction. Esilia went on to relate several stories which reflected Ilasco's character while Kalen listened and joined in with the affectionate laughter at the memories they generated. Thoughtfully, Hoshi stood next to the other Humans in the mourning party so that she could quietly translate the Ikaaran words for their benefit.

Although the two sisters remained calm and at times almost cheerful, the stories they told had a profound effect on their Human hosts. They could relate to the Ikaarans' grief because they too had lost everything when they discovered that there was no way for them to return home to their families and Earth.

Once Esilia had finished speaking she stood in silent contemplation for some moments before beckoning Hoshi to approach and stand at the opposite side of the open coffin. Hoshi was clutching a reproduction of the national flag of the Ikaaran home world which she had dedicated a lot of hard work to ensure was inscribed precisely as Esilia had instructed.

With Amanda Cole's assistance Kalen was able to get up and haltingly she came to stand beside Hoshi so that she could assist the others in draping the flag of their lost home over the body before the lid was lifted and closed; encasing Ilasco in preparation for his final journey.

Amanda then spoke the first line of the final farewell, "Rest now, honoured friend and teacher, Ilasco." Then Esilia and Kalen joined in, "We will carry your memory with us as we travel on. For one day we will meet again in the endless peace that is your release. Until then Dear One we will live as you would wish us to; for the good of our family, for the good of our tribe, and for all Ikaarans."

Everyone stepped back as Archer activated the controls that moved the coffin into position to be fired through a torpedo tube out into space. When all was ready he looked over at Kalen, who as the senior member of her family gave the signal with a silent nod of her head, to allow the coffin to be borne swiftly away on its final journey.

* * *

The Skagaran did not even bother to glance at the crewman who had carried in his latest meal on a tray and then swapped it for the untouched food that had been left to congeal on the otherwise empty desk all afternoon. He was too caught up in his own troubles to concern himself with basic needs such as food. This morning even his favourite breakfast of toasted bread covered with the strangely appealing spread called marmalade and a large mug of black coffee had failed to tempt him.

It did not matter how many times he stared out of the viewing port, the anomaly field which ceaselessly churned the fragments held in its deadly grip still filled his view of the outside world. He knew that the ship had returned to the sector from where he started his journey. He had easily recognized the star patterns from the countless times in his childhood he had sneaked a play on his clan's flight simulator. Then after he had been left to fend for himself the simulator had remained his favourite teaching tool. He would stand proudly at the virtual helm of his father's battleship to guide the magnificent vessel homewards.

In the early hours of that morning while he had maintained his anxious watch at the viewing port, he had seen a small metal object that had been ejected from the ship he was travelling on as a very unwelcome guest. His thoughts which had already been dark and troubled lead him to consider the possibility that he had witnessed an execution. He had reached this conclusion because the object was too cramped to be an escape pod and travelled too slowly to be a weapon. Whatever the explanation was, he had been terrified as he watched while the tiny object was swallowed up with inevitable ease by the all powerful anomaly field. He imagined himself being discarded in a similar way simply because he had outlived his usefulness.

His terror at the thought of dying alone had been the only reason he asked for the help of these deceitful creatures, these Humans. He felt a rare surge of pure anger as he considered that he was being cheated out of the honest deal he had made with the captain. He knew that the anomaly had parted to let them through some days before and that he had then caught his first ever glimpse of the sphere his clan had laid claim to. Since then it had become quite clear to him why Captain Archer repeatedly refused to hear his requests for better treatment; all along the captain had been planning to betray him by stealing the very technology his father and his men had died to protect.

His father Kai Garth had been a powerful leader and a clever warrior. It was difficult for the Skagaran to be the son of such a strong father; he was so small and weak and while his father had lived he had been left no doubt that he was a great disappointment. However, for all the hurt his father had heaped on him, both emotional and physical, the Skagaran still remembered with pride the certainty his father displayed when he had made the order to rouse his clan to battle for the last time. The clan had fought to hold on to their right to control the sphere and the income it generated. They had faced a rival Skagaran fleet that vastly outnumbered theirs but they had gone to certain death without hesitation. That was how great his father's hold had been on his men. The Leader's son knew that their deaths had not been in vain because they had been able to either fatally wound or destroy outright all of the mighty ships that had made up the invasion fleet that had tried to rob them of this portion of space.

One of the clan Kai, named Raxx, who was too old to fight, had been left behind with the frightened child to wait in vain for the return of any of the clan's warriors. From the safe distance of their underground home, the two of them had plotted the course of the battle and observed the brutal destruction that was in the end a futile fight for supremacy. Raxx had then been able to fill a few of the bereft child's years with numerous stories of his father's great wisdom, courage and strength.

When the old one fell ill and died shortly afterwards the boy was then left alone for decades to yearn for the company of others. It was this desperate longing that he cursed for the situation he found himself in. However he was grateful that his deep mistrust of Captain Archer ensured he had a backup plan.

He was surprised that there had only been a cursory check made of his few personal possessions. It was indeed fortuitous that they had not taken him seriously enough to search his belongings more thoroughly because he had managed to hide a short muzzle phase rifle in among his clothing and his father's ceremonial blade strapped around his thigh. He had worked hard to keep the jagged blade of the warrior's knife sharp and polished over the long years spent in searing loneliness; he was proud that the blade still sparkled like a brilliant jewel when turned to the light.

Although certain he was being monitored, he opened the small case that contained all of his belongings and picked up the knife encased in an ornate metallic cover. His father's name was picked out on the front of the bejeweled cover in raised metallic silver coloured lettering. He brought the cover up to his lips and kissed the cold metal that formed the legendary name and he vowed that he would not besmirch his father's memory.

The knife belt was too long for his gaunt frame but he slung it around his waist as best he could. Then he lifted up the phase rifle and charged it until the controls indicated that it was operational. At that moment he felt the heady mix of excited anticipation that he would soon be facing battle along with the worrying fear of being found wanting. He had only used the rifle for practice; never in anger and never to take another's life.

Although it hurt him to use his father's blade for such a lowly task, it made quick work of prizing off the panel cover to allow him access to the door controls. The Skagaran was pleased to find that the door mechanism was extremely easy for him to circumvent. Once he had disabled the lock all that was needed was to manually push open the door.

He initially opened the door only a little bit, so that he could see out into the corridor. He heard voices coming from further down the corridor to his left, the direction he needed to go in order to reach the hangar bay, where there was the means to leave the ship. He waited until the voices had faded away and then the silence beckoned him on. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest it felt like it was going to burst out of his emaciated body as he tensed his arm against the door and pushed it open far enough for him to slip out of what he considered to be his prison cell.

In the small alcove outside the door he was hidden from the main corridor. The reassuring lack of any alarms sounding told him that his escape had yet to be discovered. He raised the phase rifle and rested it against the crook of his arm and risked a quick look both ways along the passageway, before moving cautiously across to the opposite wall and then edging towards the intersection with the next corridor. He briefly paused as he heard footsteps that seemed to be heading towards his position and he was momentarily trapped by indecision as he considered his next move. Then he realized that it was only going to be a matter of time before he was discovered so he decided to be less cautious and move as fast as he could towards his goal at the stern of the vessel.

He was almost at the turn that led directly to the hangar bay, a route which he had memorized on his only journey through this ship and was therefore just within reach of his means of escape when a female crewman came into view heading down the corridor at a brisk pace. As soon as she saw him, the shock stopped her dead in her tracks, though she still had the presence of mind to react first; reaching out to activate a control panel on the wall just beside her. She was about to open her mouth to raise the alarm when the Skagaran threw his body against the wall opposite her position and as he soon as he had the control panel in his sights, discharged his weapon.

The intense blast of energy blew out the control panel and sent sparks of fire shooting from the wall and left behind a smoking blackened hole. In the second it took him to recover and push himself off the wall to stand in the corridor an alert started to sound throughout the ship. The female had slumped to the floor and curled herself into a tight defensive ball as she clutched her burnt forearm to her body.

The smell of the burning flesh shocked the Skagaran to the core while the sight of the female's ashen face contorted in pain from a wound he had inflicted made his stomach churn. The son of Kai Garth found that he did not like the experience of hurting another being one little bit. He dropped down on his knees close to where she lay and put his phase rifle down on the deck as he wondered how best to help her. While she was so caught up in her own pain she seemed completely unaware of his continued presence.

The pressure of cold hard metal being pressed against the back of his neck ended his deliberations. His rifle was kicked out of his reach and someone else was leaning over the stricken female. He was roughly grabbed around his upper arms and pulled upwards and then forced to stand facing the wall. The business end of the weapon continued to be pressed to his head to warn him against any sudden movement. Then a hand reached around him to pull his father's knife out of its sheath and that too was tossed out of his reach. The Skagaran made a half hearted attempt to protest as he heard the precious keepsake first hit and then scrape along the deck. He was brutally silenced by a sharp knock that bashed his head up against the hard metallic wall surface.

He heard the voice of the captain although he was so caught up in his own torment he couldn't make out what he was saying. Instead he concentrated on being as ready as he could for what he expected to be his execution. The Skagaran was surprised by the notion that at least he had gotten his wish and would not die alone; a thought he found absurdly comforting.


	12. Chapter 12

**Communication

* * *

**

**Chapter Twelve

* * *

**

"I haven't told anyone about how T'Pol communicated with you, not even Hoshi and she's _really _curious…"

Travis stopped his plea for mitigation in mid sentence as he caught sight of the expression of pure confusion on Trip's face. All he was trying to do was make sure that Trip, and by default T'Pol, know that he was definitely not the one responsible for the latest round of rumours about them running riot through _Enterprise_. Travis then tried another more direct approach to get his point across to Trip, "You know, the way in which you used your link to T'Pol to communicate with _Enterprise_, to let them know where we were."

Trip let out a deep sigh and as he was unable to express his exasperatation by walking away, he turned his head so that he did not have to look at Travis. His eyesight might be getting better but his memory of recent events was still foggy. While he knew that his bond with T'Pol had facilitated their rescue, he did not know the specifics and was irritated that Travis seemed to have full recall of what T'Pol classed as an intimate interaction. Though, if he was to be brutally honest, which in his current mood was extremely likely, there was also the added annoyance of dealing with yet another visitor who had obviously stopped by on a mission to cheer him up. The method by which they had been rescued was of little interest to him given his current incapacity. As he was a captive audience and in a lot of discomfort Trip felt no guilt about expressing exactly how disgruntled he was: "_Travis_, whatever it is you're trying to tell me, you're not making any sense! And right now I'm nursing one _hell _of a headache."

"Just how much do you remember…?"

"Travis!" Trip shouted at him in frustration and he instantly regretted that reaction as pain sheared through his fragile mind even causing his teeth to ache in sympathy with this latest agony. He gently cradled his head in his hands while still managing to shoot Travis a loaded glare which perfectly demonstrated his intense impatience with his friend.

This was definitely not how Travis had expected this conversation to go. He understood how bad Trip's original injuries had been. Then there was the fact that after their rescue both he and Trip had to have their broken limbs re-broken so that they could be reset by Doctor Phlox. This had to be done because the automated medical system on the sphere had simply bound their broken bones without ensuring that the breaks were aligned correctly and in Trip's case this had left his shattered leg in a terrible mess. Phlox had to conduct a complicated operation to ensure that Trip was not left with one leg much shorter than the other and that resulted in a great deal of muttering about automated incompetence from the disgusted doctor. For Travis, his arm had not been a big problem and it was currently healing well in a proper cast supported by a sling. So although Travis could comprehend Trip's frustration at his continuing immobility, he was confused by his friend's short temperedness when he felt they should both be grateful to simply be alive and back on _Enterprise_. He could not recognize his friend in this man who was so introverted and disagreeable and it saddened Travis that he did not know what to do to help.

He was pondering his next move when Amanda Cole chose to poke her head between the curtains that separated Trip from the rest of sick bay. "Travis, _please_ don't tell me that you're upsetting my patient."

Travis nervously met Corporal Cole's steely gaze and immediately sensed that although Amanda had swapped her MACO role to become a medic she was fully prepared to defend her patients with all the skill of a highly trained soldier. Not wanting to take the chance of annoying her further he capitulated with only the slightest attempt to excuse his behaviour, "Honestly, I didn't mean to say anything wrong. If I promise to behave from now on, can I stay?"

Amanda nodded briefly, accepting his apology while making it clear with a stern look that he was on his final warning. She then went to check the data that was being displayed on the monitor behind Trip. Travis studied the graphs along with her and he noticed that the peaks were getting steeper and spiking closer together. When Amanda turned her attention back to Trip she was frowning slightly. Then she asked a question that Travis would have found truly astounding if he had not already known about the bond that Trip and T'Pol shared: "Are you missing Commander T'Pol's presence already? I can contact Phlox to get authorization to administer a painkiller just now if you like."

"Thanks, but I can wait until Phlox gets back," Trip murmured, ashamed by his display of weakness while recognizing that Amanda was right on the mark about his need for his Vulcan mate. As T'Pol was not there he had no one to stop him from being sucked deeper into the depths of depression that was generated by his pain and frustration at his immobility. The truth was that in his current condition the injury to his brain meant he did not have the strength to stop despair from consuming his spirit on his own. T'Pol had left his side because she was urgently required to return to duty and he was lost without her physical presence to soothe and calm him.

The irony was not lost on Trip; he had pushed her to leave because he despised himself for being so needy for wanting her to stay with him all the time. His need for independence had left him feeling miserable as he faced the reality of his helplessness.

"So you know about Trip and T'Pol too?" Travis had blurted out and then realized his mistake when he was on the receiving end of a seriously disapproving look from Amanda along with a snort of disgust from his disgruntled friend.

It was obvious to Travis and Amanda that Trip had had enough when he roughly pushed away the pillows that were propping him upright and pulled the covers on the biobed up and over his head.

"It might be better if I go, sorry Trip," Travis muttered, annoyed at the ham fisted way in which he had handled the situation. He hurriedly parted the curtains to leave and was not surprised when Amanda decided to follow him out and motion for him to wait while she pulled the curtains shut behind her.

She drew him further away from where Trip was resting and instead of the telling off he had been expecting she whispered in a low voice, "Look, Trip's suffered a major trauma and he can't remember much of what happened to him. I know that you are trying to reassure him that you'll keep your mouth shut about them but it's not necessary. T'Pol is really amazing; she is helping him so much and she doesn't seem to care what people think, so please can you just leave it? Oh and do keep visiting him; don't be put off by his bad mood."

Suddenly the relative peace of the sick bay was rudely interrupted when Phlox burst through the doors followed by two crewmen in charge of a stretcher that a young woman in a lot of pain was resting on.

Travis noticed at once that the patient's left sleeve had been cut away revealing a deep burn wound that seemed like it was glowing; it was such a vivid red colour. Amanda went over to help Phlox who had set to work to cool the area and neutralize the still burning flesh. Although their ministrations were quickly effective, the particular aroma of burnt flesh was strong enough to fill the sick bay with its unpleasant smell.

While the Phlox and Amanda were concentrating on their work, an anxious voice called out from the shrouded area where Trip was resting, "Travis, are you still here?"

Travis pulled one of the curtains aside to find that Trip had pushed back his covers and was trying to listen in to what was happening, a worried expression on his face.

Travis guessed the reason for his concern, "One of yours Trip; Crewman Leonard, she has a bad plasma burn on her left arm."

"And just who the hell is in charge of engineering?" Trip demanded as he struggled to sit up on the biobed.

"Commander T'Pol; Lieutenant Hess was pulling double shifts in the sphere, but she has been ordered to get some rest. It could happen on anyone's watch Trip, _Enterprise_ is not the safest place with the ongoing repairs and all."

Trip looked around at the protective cocoon he had insisted that he needed although it was really his way of shutting out the world, apart from T'Pol of course. It dawned on him that he had been so busy coping with the overwhelming tiredness that held him fast in a bleak depression that he had not given a single thought to his team. That was until one of the youngest of his crew had been badly injured.

"Travis pull back these_ damn_ curtains…please," he requested, angry at the time he had already wasted on his own problems.

Travis complied at once and as Trip looked over at the bright heart of the sick bay where Phlox was at work he felt as though he had found a way to start to emerge from the gloom that had been allowed to submerge him. Crewman Leonard was being treated a short distance away and Trip could tell that she was conscious. He decided to attract her attention, "Hey Sarah, are you okay?"

Sarah lifted her head and turned round as far as she was able, allowing her to glance in his direction, "Hi Commander, it's great to see you back on _Enterprise_! I'm doing fine, how about you?"

"We're both off duty Sarah so please just call me Trip. I'll know everything's all right with the universe when I can hear the sweet hum of the warp drive again!" Trip declared and then he managed to give her an encouraging smile. Crewman Leonard nodded to show that she understood his meaning; one engineer to another.

* * *

The Skagaran stood in front of the viewing port, which this time offered him another imposing sight; the massive dull grey coloured sphere that had once been under his clan's control. He had been taken and then left to wait in a large meeting room dominated by a long table with many chairs placed around it. There were two particularly imposing Human males armed with phase rifles, standing to attention on either side of the entrance. The little Skagaran was so amazed to find that he was still alive he allowed himself an inward chuckle at the absurd level of security he appeared to merit.

Then the entrance door was activated and he heard the sound of someone striding into the room. The reflective surface of the port revealed that his visitor was a grim faced Captain Archer, and while the Skagaran remained where he was he heard the captain order the two guards to leave the room and take up sentry positions in the corridor outside.

The little being had wished to postpone this encounter for as long as possible so it was with great reluctance that he turned to face Archer. He saw that the captain was regarding him closely, his anger under control but still very much evident in his stony gaze.

"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't return to your planet and leave you there?"

The Skagaran was completely dumbfounded by the captain's question. If he understood Archer correctly he was being asked to explain his actions. His only previous experience of being taken to task dated from a long time ago when he still had a father to inflict harsh discipline on him. The lesson he had learned then was that his father punished without mercy or even sometimes without reason so he had learnt never to argue or try to justify his behaviour. He had found it was better to accept the pain and hope that his silent submission would ensure that the duration of his punishment was brief. After his father's death he had been in the care an elder who wanted to be left in peace so he got no attention, positive or negative, and he remembered how lost and lonely he had felt.

The accusatory silence he faced from Archer managed to hurt him almost as much as the violent beating he would have expected from his father for his wrongdoing. The image of the Human female lying crumpled on the floor after he had accidently wounded her was too fresh a memory for him to deny or attempt to explain away. Therefore he felt it was easier to fall back into the behaviour he had adopted as a child and he chose not to try to explain or excuse his actions. In a whisper of defeat he gave a simple response, "No."

Then Captain Archer surprised him again as with a low sigh the captain pulled out the chair at the head of the table, sat down and gestured that his prisoner should also take a seat. The Skagaran did as he was asked and confused that his answer appeared not to have been sufficient was about to attempt an apology when Archer raised his hand, "Our discussion would be easier if you spoke in Skagaran. My communications officer has uploaded your language to our universal translator and the facility is currently enabled."

The Skagaran hesitated for a moment and then with his brow furrowed in concentration he started to use words that for far too long had only played in his mind, "I apologise that my words will not flow well, I have not spoken the language of my birth out loud for a very long time. I only hope I can remember well how to form the words I hear in my head…"

"You're doing fine."

"Then may I ask how you know of my species and why you have the Skagaran language on your databanks? My kind captured and enslaved some Humans but I know that was long ago…my father said that Humans were all deceitful and lazy; very bad, poor workers. I am sorry that is hurtful but I feel I need to be honest even though it will not help me. I knew what you were from the start and although I did not trust your kind I had to ask for your help as I am running out of time. Please, please believe me, when I tell you I did not mean to hurt your female, and I am sorry for that."

The being sank back in his seat seemingly exhausted by the effort of speaking in his somewhat disjointed way as Archer wryly responded, "Perhaps we Humans are not as biddable as your ancestors hoped we would be but I can assure you that I had every intention of fulfilling my part of our bargain. During our journey through the expanse we came across a planet where _your _kind put the enslaved Humans they captured to work. Though by the time we arrived, the Humans were no longer the slaves!"

"That was the work of the first Skagaran settlers who wished to make a life for themselves in the great wilderness. Such work did not interest my father; he was a warrior without a war to fight. So when he was approached by an emissary of the Others, he accepted the invitation to protect their property and this quadrant." The Skagaran stated with noticeable pride in his voice as he pointed at the sphere that filled the viewing port.

"And did he receive booty from the ships caught in the anomaly field as payment for his services?" Archer asked horrified at the realization that the anomaly was probably the source of the Skagaran's huge hoard of components and metallic skins from countless starships.

"_Anomaly field_, are you referring to the disturbance? I know it has been re-activated even though the rest of my clan has long since returned to the mighty one, who makes all."

"Do you know anything about how the _disturbance _works?" Archer asked as he wondered if this strange creature that he had ignored and found so distasteful could actually turn out to be their saviour.

The Skagaran felt his confidence begin to grow as he recognized that his cause might not be completely lost.

"My father, a great warrior and the leader of our clan, controlled the disturbance for many years after we left the Skagaran home world for good. You are correct that any ships caught in it were claimed as our reward for aiding the Others. We were also permitted to base crew in the sphere as long as we maintained it and its satellite spheres as instructed by the Others."

"And what happened to the crews of those captured vessels?"

"That was a question I never asked, I was but a child. I can only surmise that those who resisted were killed. Captain, if I may, I have a question for you. Why did you return to this sector if not to steal my clan's rights to this sphere?"

Startled by the Skagaran's accusation Archer stared aghast at him. The idea that this being thought he would crave a weapon that had been used to plunder ships and rob their crews of life was morally repugnant to him. His disgust showed in the disdainful way he addressed his accuser, "I wish that every last one of the spheres in the Expanse could be destroyed to stop them spreading their poison. No, we did not come here to steal; we came here to rescue two members of my crew who we thought had died in the anomaly field. We received information they were inside this sphere."

"Then I have one last question for you, Captain. A metal container was expelled from your ship yesterday, what was inside it?"

"It contained the body of a dead Ikaaran male, one of _only_ three of his kind that we were able to rescue from a starship torn apart by the anomaly. His injuries were too serious for Doctor Phlox to save him so he was returned to the field that had already claimed many other innocent lives."

"It was a funeral then and not an execution?"

"It was a funeral, exactly what kind of person do you think I am?"

The Skagaran abruptly stood up and shook his puny fist, which trembled from the force of his anger, at the captain. The little being was shocked by the pure power of his emotion as all of his pent up rage spilled out in a high pitched rant, "A Human who made a promise to me just to get what he wanted and then treated me as his prisoner instead of as an honoured guest. A Human who ignored all my protests about my treatment and left me locked away from the companionship I craved, all alone again!"

He fell back into the chair; his arms wrapped around his skinny chest while he rocked back and forward and silent tears fell leaving behind wet tracks on his gaunt face.

Archer who had been left openmouthed by the Skagaran's diatribe felt shame and sorrow for being the cause of so much distress. He wondered just how long the male had been left alone and then it dawned on him why the Skagaran had been willing to give away everything he owned in return for transportation to any sort of civilization. Archer felt humbled and he was sincere when he finally broke the silence between them, "I am sorry about the way I treated you. It was wrong of me to assume that you could not be trusted."

He reached out his right hand and offered it to the surprised Skagaran. After regarding it for a moment the male returned the gesture by putting his hand in the Captain's much larger and stronger one. He was fascinated when it was grasped and pumped up and down and deduced from the expression on the Human's face that this was a demonstration of friendship.

He decided to offer up something in return, "My father often expressed the belief that I could not possibly be his child. I was so small and insignificant in comparison to his greatness. However when your ship was allowed passage through the disturbance, it proved beyond any doubt that I am the son of the leader of the Kai clan as only one of my blood could open a way through. So I have something to thank you for Captain Archer."

"So are you the Controller?"

"Yes, I am the Leader's Son." The Skagaran replied with obvious pride.

"Then we need your help, if you are prepared to offer it."

* * *

_Enterprise_ had been freed from the shackles that had kept her tied in the orbit of the sphere but Willis knew that even though he too had been released he did not really feel free. He was sure it was not just his continuing guilt and shame at the part he played in the attack on Doctor Phlox that made him to feel that his every move was being monitored. Although the engineering crew he had once been such a vital part of were pointedly ignoring him. The few cold glances made in his direction made it plain that he was no longer a welcome member of the crew.

He had been cleared that day to work in main engineering although only on non critical systems and afterwards he knew that any work he did would be fully checked. The work recalibrating the secondary communication conduits was not at all taxing and it left him with too much time to think and reflect on his situation.

One of the Ikaaran females was also working in main engineering. Unlike Willis she had been welcomed by the crew. Willis had already managed to glean from listening in on various conversations that the female was called Kalen and she had been the Chief Engineer on the Ikaaran ship that had been destroyed. He was surprised that her status was taken on trust and that a stranger was so easily given full clearance to work alongside Lieutenant Kelby, who seemed particularly interested in her. Apparently Kalen had insisted on being put to work although the injuries she had sustained had not yet completely healed and she made use of a wheelchair.

Willis wondered what Masaro would make of this and the fact that she was stepping on Commander Tucker's toes by implementing some extremely radical suggestions to improve the performance of the warp engines. Though Willis conceded that the engines were certainly sounding sweeter then they had for quite some time while _Enterprise _maintained warp 3 and travelled unhindered through the vast reaches of the Expanse.

Of course the fact that they had escaped the anomaly field was also down to another one of their alien guests. A Skagaran that Willis had only just heard about had easily shut down the field, something the engineering crews had been trying to achieve for days without success.

He noticed that Commander T'Pol had entered main engineering. She walked across to Lieutenant Hess and Kalen and he heard her request updates on the warp engine trials before discussing the further suggestions made by the Ikaaran. Willis watched the three females who each hailed from a different world as they worked together. In particular Willis was drawn to T'Pol who had a stillness about her that had always fascinated him. Her movements were so precise and economical; her posture and bearing perfect and serene even in the midst of the worst danger. He understood why many people thought Vulcans were little more than walking computers; cold, logical and hard. However there was a particular beauty and grace about T'Pol that he for one could not ignore. He knew all about the rumours about the _Vulcan,_ as Masaro had always insisted on calling her in a tone of pure venom, and Commander Tucker. They had renewed in intensity since the commander had been rescued from the sphere. If the stories were to be believed T'Pol spent all of her free time sitting with the commander in sick bay. There was even incredible talk that when he had first been brought onboard she had been seen to cry and had even held him in her arms.

With a heavy heart at his self imposed isolation, Willis turned his attention back to the bundle of cables that he had exposed as he considered his options. He had accepted that his grief at being forever parted from his family had turned to such a corrosive and deep anger that it had made him ripe for Masaro's hatred of all things alien. Willis no longer recognized the man that had let his anger turn him against those who were not Human, though he wondered if it was too late for him to be welcomed back into the _Enterprise_ family. If that was the case he knew there was nowhere left for him to go and he refused to contemplate living an empty life without a chance of salvation.


	13. Chapter 13

**Communication

* * *

**

**Chapter Thirteen

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**

Trip's whole body was shaking with the effort required to take each tortuous step. He was struggling to master the technique of walking with crutches while observing the strict orders Doctor Phlox had given him not to put any weight on his broken leg. He knew it was only will power that was keeping him upright but Trip was much more concerned that he was failing to keep up with T'Pol. She had just marched around the corner into another corridor, disappearing from his view, without giving him a single backwards glance.

Having lost his guide and feeling exhausted and frustrated by his lack of progress, Trip was finally forced to give up and rest. Phlox had been extremely reluctant to let him leave sick bay and Trip finally understood the good doctor's point. He had got himself into this mess because he was tired of not being allowed to do anything apart from rest. Not that there was any chance of him returning to duty any time soon but, being a very impatient patient, he needed to be anywhere other than sick bay. Holding the crutches he had already decided he hated with a passion in one hand, Trip hopped towards the security offered by the corridor wall. Once there he cradled his back against the wall and was able to catch his breath.

Although in theory the bond with T'Pol would have allowed him to let her know he was taking a pit stop, Trip was far too tired for the concentration that was required. There was also the extremely significant fact that since T'Pol had arrived in sick bay to escort him to his quarters, he had been made aware that she was not disposed to share her thoughts. She had been very distant; cold and officious as only a Vulcan could be. It reminded him of how she used to behave when she first joined _Enterprise_ and Trip was at a loss as to what he had done to displease her. Though he knew she had been concerned about him leaving the constant care offered in the sick bay. T'Pol's sudden change of attitude was particularly hurtful and confusing because she had been openly demonstrative since he had returned, even in front of the people who came to visit him. He also missed the support T'Pol had channeled through their link; he was sure that this was why he was having so much difficulty coping with his injuries and the damned crutches.

Suddenly T'Pol reappeared, walking briskly towards him; the speed of her strides the only indication of her need to locate him. As she caught sight of Trip her expression shifted minutely to reveal her tension before becoming neutral again. Trip feared that meant he was facing a lecture and although he knew it was a pointless gesture he gave her the best 'everything's fine, honest' smile he could muster in an attempt to ward it off.

As expected, T'Pol launched into a measured rebuke after taking a brief moment to regard him in order to ascertain if his condition was precarious: "Doctor Phlox stated in no uncertain terms that a wheelchair was his preferred method for you to move around. This is definitely not the time for you to demonstrate stubborn disregard for your own health and wellbeing."

"I'm _fine!_" Trip retorted, defiantly giving full vent to his irritation at being treated like an invalid, while denying the irrefutable evidence presented by his weakened state.

"Where were you going anyway, my quarters are on the starboard side of the ship?"

In response T'Pol made a particularly cryptic statement, even for her, "Your quarters are already occupied."

In his exasperation at this unexpected turn of events, a number of indignant questions surfaced in Trip's bewildered mind; all of them along the lines of who the hell had been given permission to take up residence in what was, by right, _his_ allocated space.

An increasingly uncomfortable T'Pol shot Trip a warning look. Then to forestall any more awkward questions she started to walk away very slowly in the direction she had come from.

Trip could tell when he was being stonewalled but as he was too tired to fight he gave out a low sigh, signaling his willingness to surrender. He peeled his body away from the safety of the wall and balanced on the much loathed crutches. He then allowed them to take his full weight and the slow and laborious ordeal commenced again, made much harder this time without a specific goal to aim for. Although, as he took his first stumbling steps, there was some satisfaction to be found from muttering under his breath: "I go missing for a few days and the Cap'n lets out my quarters, just _great_!"

T'Pol's sensitive hearing picked up the pointed comment. It only added to her apprehension about how Trip would react to his new living arrangements, which she had made without consulting him. She knew, however, that was nothing compared with the far more important decisions she had made without taking into account the possible consequences for him. Very soon she would have to confess the full extent of her actions and in comparison any argument he might have had about where he was to sleep paled into insignificance. All T'Pol could do was to continue to walk forward, slowing her pace right down to match his; aware that the time was approaching when she would have to admit her mistakes.

After a lot of hard work Trip was somewhat agitated to find T'Pol had come to a stop outside her quarters. His only wish was to rest his sore and battered body on any available bunk after the promise of his own comfortable bed had been snatched from him. So he felt strongly that this was definitely not the time for T'Pol to be taking a detour. He was about to protest his exhaustion when she activated the door to her quarters and then quietly stood to one side; inviting him to enter first.

Reluctantly Trip went in and then when he lifted his head to look around came to a shocked dead stop. This should have been familiar territory but he was openly disconcerted by the sight that greeted him. The fact that a two person bunk bed dominated T'Pol's quarters left him speechless. T'Pol's ornate silk cushions were neatly arranged on the top bunk while his family photographs adorned the wall beside the lower one. His eyes continued to roam the room taking in all the other new and incongruous additions. There were more of his framed photographs on two new shelves beside her viewing port. Then he spotted his antique diving helmet sitting at the center of another shelving unit. A lump formed in his throat as he noted it had been given pride of place in T'Pol's quarters. It meant so much to him as his baby sister, Lizzie, had given him the helmet to commemorate _Enterprise's_ maiden voyage.

T'Pol touched his sleeve and indicated that he could rest on the lower bunk. Momentarily too confused to protest, Trip let T'Pol help him to slowly lower his body until he was sitting on the neatly made up bed. He then stretched out his broken leg, which was encased in a protective cast, as T'Pol carried away his crutches and laid them down on the floor under the viewing port. She then swiveled the chair at her desk around so that she could seat herself facing him.

Trip watched as she arranged herself into the elegant and neat posture that he knew so well. Only he could read nervousness in T'Pol's eyes that were at odds with her efforts to appear calm and in control. He didn't know if the feeling was his or hers, involuntarily transmitted through their bond, but this situation was making him feel incredibly uncomfortable. He decided it would be for the best to make his excuses and leave, "T'Pol, I can bunk with Malcolm or Travis, you need your space. You don't need to do this for me."

"I do have need of solitude but you still require care and I am the logical person to carry out that task."

Trip wasn't buying T'Pol's reasoning as he could not see how it was possible for her to be comfortable with this arrangement. He wanted to be with her but not if she had been forced into taking him in as a room mate. He resigned himself to what was the only sensible solution he could come up with, "Phlox talked you into this, didn't he? I would rather to go back to sick bay with my tail between my legs than impose on you."

"Trip, I suggested this solution after Doctor Phlox agreed that it would be beneficial to your recovery to leave sick bay. As you still require assistance you cannot be left alone for extended periods so when I am attending to my duties either Phlox or Corporal Cole will be able to check up on you."

"Don't you think my illogical human presence in your quarters will drive you just a little crazy? Never mind that I'm already in your head!"

Trip was extremely surprised by T'Pol's reaction to his gentle attempt to tease her. She noticeably recoiled as if his words had caused her real physical pain, wrapping her arms protectively around her body, her cheeks noticeably darker.

Although the urge to make an excuse and leave T'Pol in peace was becoming even stronger, Trip realized that a quick getaway was not going to be possible. His crutches lay well out of his reach on the floor. Perhaps it was the panicked feeling that he was out of his depth that made him remember a particularly embarrassing memory from his childhood. Despite his initial reluctance, Andrew Tucker had agreed to teach his kid brother to dance in order to help him approach the girl of his adolescent dreams. However, on the night of the dance Trip had chosen to stay safely cocooned in the group of scared boys trying to act cool and pretend indifference as twirling couples passed them by. After Andy got over his annoyance that his patient tutoring had gone to waste, he had made Trip promise that never again would he be such a chicken where women were concerned. His older brother had died three years after the futile dancing lessons and Trip had lost count of many occasions when he had broken his solemn promise.

T'Pol wondered what he was thinking that was so engrossing. At that instant she wanted to break down the barriers she had erected as protection and allow herself to feel his presence in her mind. It had pained her that she needed to deny her bond mate temporary access to the link that bound them for life, but it was necessary. T'Pol doubted she would be able to complete the required but painful task if they remained linked. She had reasoned that there was a high probability his reaction to what he was going to hear would be an extremely volatile one. She knew that coping with his human reactions would weaken her resolve to be completely honest so she had been forced to cut herself off from him.

The time she dreaded had come at last and T'Pol focused her concentration on the task at hand before starting to speak, "Trip, our relationship can only proceed if I am completely honest and explain my past conduct towards you. Once you have heard all the facts, you will need to decide if a relationship with me is something you want."

Trip stared openmouthed at T'Pol as he had a problem processing her exact meaning. He was then seized by the horrible realization that she seemed to be suggesting that their relationship could end. He certainly knew that he was in no fit state to take part in such a momentous conversation, not when he was feeling more and more confused by the minute.

"Please T'Pol; do we have to do this right now? I've already said that I'll go back to the sick bay and do what I'm told this time."

T'Pol felt overwhelmed by the discomfort of having to face Trip while recounting her deepest secrets and she hesitated about proceeding. She could feel his real fear about what she was going to do next, trickling through her supposedly secure defenses, and that markedly increased her tension. There were strong emotions attached to the events T'Pol needed to describe which had caused her to feel terrible shame and made them even more difficult to deal with. She had to fight an instinctive urge to run from the agony of revealing the bad choices she had made and which long years of training told her should be kept hidden. T'Pol partially gave ground to her shame by abruptly standing and turning her back on Trip. Though she knew there could be no retreat because he had to hear the truth without delay, despite the unavoidable hurt it would cause. T'Pol went over to the viewing port and looked out into the cold and dark vastness of space until she had regained a measure of calm.

"I will be brief as I do not wish to tire you. I only ask that you remain silent until I have finished. I kept secrets from you that I believe impeded the formation of our bond so it is impetrative that you know everything. Then you will be able to decide if your care should continue to be my concern."

Trip was still trying to avoid this discussion as he pleaded, "You know that you're the only one I want to care for me, this isn't necessary, believe me." .

"Trip…"

"Okay, I'm listening!"

T'Pol started to tell Trip about her time on Earth and a curiosity in Human culture which had led her to slip out of the Vulcan Compound; breaking night curfew. She talked about being drawn to the visceral sound of Human music. It was an experience shunned by her culture as such music was supposed to heighten emotions. The Vulcan ear was meant to prefer the rigidly mathematical approach that was the basis for their compositions. However, the rhythm had hypnotized her and she found it incredibly intoxicating to let the beat disrupt the order of her systemic thought processes.

Although Trip knew T'Pol well enough to realize that she viewed this transgression seriously, he had to work hard to resist the temptation to giggle. The image of T'Pol shimmying down a drain pipe to escape her officious and deadly dull colleagues was something Trip definitely approved of. He had always suspected that his girl was a rebel and he made a mental note to hunt out some Jazz for her even though that was not his kind of music.

T'Pol was continuing her story in the same flat monotone she used to address a senior staff meeting, "…When _Enterprise _provided assistance to the Vulcan Vessel, _Vahklas_ I worked for a time alongside a young Vulcan male called Tolaris. He, like the rest of the crew had chosen to take a different path from teachings of Surak; they were searching for a balanced way to express their emotions.

Tolaris sensed that my emotions were close to the surface but he did not express disapproval; unlike others of my kind, who frequently commented on my imperfect control. He encouraged me to undertake an experiment. He suggested that I refrain from mediating prior to retiring to sleep. I followed his instructions and experienced the most intense and vivid dream. I returned to the jazz club where I had heard the music that had so invigorated me. Though, I found the experience to be extremely unsettling and unpleasant particularly as Tolaris featured in my dream."

As Trip listened he felt that, without warning, he had been ripped from his comfort zone and thrust into a much darker place. He racked his brain but could not picture Tolaris. He knew that Archer had mentioned an unpleasant run in with one of the crew of the _Vahklas. _As he had not volunteered any further information about the incident, Trip could only wonder if Tolaris had been involved. Then his blood ran cold as he remembered that Phlox had placed T'Pol off duty on medical grounds just before the renegade Vulcans had departed.

She had continued to speak while he had been trying to get his tired mind to recall exactly what had happened during the visit of the _Vahklas_, and in what order _. _Therefore he had not been able to fully take in everything she was saying until a sentence sliced straight through his thoughts and dread started to tighten in his chest like a snake slowly constricting his very life.

…He demanded that I admit the full extent of my emotional involvement in that dream. He continued to force himself deeper into my memories although he knew that I was in pain and frightened. He pushed his unrestrained emotions onto me even as I was begging him to withdraw and end our connection. He refused to stop and made me stay with him in that place and remember in jarring detail the effect it had had on me. I struggled to break free from his grasp while my mind was being overwhelmed by the vivid images I was subjected to. Then when I finally succeeded in freeing myself from his grip, Tolaris was dismissive of the weakness he perceived in me and I knew he felt bitterly disappointed by my reaction. Though he did agree to leave my quarters, allowing me to request medical assistance…"

Every single word T'Pol had spoken, so simply and calmly, stabbed at him, wounding and hurting him until Trip couldn't contain the escalating fury he felt, on T'Pol's behalf, a second longer, "That cowardly son of bitch went right on hurting you after you asked him to stop! What I would give to get my hands on him!"

T'Pol was so startled by his outburst she spun round and stared at him. She had gotten so involved in that terrible memory that she had almost forgotten that he was with her. She appreciated that he was expressing his honest anger that he had been not been able to stop Tolaris from forcing himself on her, even if it was illogical. T'Pol also saw Trip's reaction as typical of his emotional nature and she knew that if she could not get him to calm down, it would make continuing this painful task even more difficult. She decided to try to reason with him, "Trip, I do not consider that Tolaris was in full control of his actions…"

"How can you excuse his behavior; he forced himself on you and that is totally unacceptable for any damn species!"

"I do not excuse his behavior. However there is a probable explanation as to why he was not receptive to my request to stop. He suffered from a disease called Pa'nar Syndrome. This condition is only found in the Vulcan minority who practice mind melds. The syndrome destroys the neural pathways; eroding emotional control and eventually is fatal."

The fear made him numb. Trip could only comprehend three words: 'Pa'nar Syndrome and fatal' which had lodged in the forefront of his mind and made him feel scared stiff. He almost wanted to cover his ears just as a child would so that they didn't have to hear a terrible truth. In vain, T'Pol stood silently waiting for him to ask the question that he could not give voice to; although it was etched on his frightened face.

Then because of Trip's stunned reaction, T'Pol acted on instinct and closed distance between them. She sat down opposite him again and took up her story once more, her voice noticeably quieter, "I have Pa'nar Syndrome. Doctor Phlox identified the condition and was able to halt its progress at an early stage, although only for a period of time. Vulcans consider the disease to be a punishment for engaging in mind melds, but he did manage to obtain limited research data from a Vulcan source…"

"But you were forced…"

"I did agree to the mind meld, Tolaris hurt me when he refused to withdraw even though he knew that he was causing me distress."

"I'm sorry but he forced you, end of story! Is there nothing more Phlox can do? Is that why you are more emotional?"

"The syndrome is partially responsible for my inability to completely suppress my emotional responses. Phlox received secret assistance from a member of a delegation he approached. That individual, at great personal cost, provided details of research which has helped Phlox stabilize the disease and even repair some of the damage."

After he digested this latest information Trip wanted to reassure T'Pol that she could count on him; that he would be there for her: "Listen, I need you to know that you didn't do anything wrong and that I love you, no matter what. If you get sick I will look after you."

Although his words were heartfelt and sincere, Trip still felt they were insufficient to explain the true depth of his feelings. His body trembled as though in shock while he longed for the comfort that physical contact would bring them both. He wanted to touch her fingers and transmit the evidence of his total commitment to her. She had coped with this disease on her own for so long and as her mate he needed to let her know she could rely on him.

He could sense, however, that T'Pol was still physically and mentally out of reach to him; her face a resolute mask and her mind blocking any attempts he made to open a link between them. It was obvious her ordeal wasn't over and that there were more revelations to come. Resigned to the continuation of the barrier between them, Trip realised that there was a way he could help her. He would try to quell the unbearable tension choking his heart by practicing the neuropressure breathing exercises T'Pol had taught him. In that way, he would be able to remain silent and end her ordeal as quickly as possible.

T'Pol took time to centre her mind in order to dissipate the effect of Trip's latest emotional outburst. When she was able speak again, her voice was, if possible, even quieter and more hesitant, "I wronged you, Trip. On Vulcan if someone is found to have the condition, they are isolated from society and barred from all forms of intimate contact. I should never have been sexually intimate with you. Recently I asked Doctor Phlox to run diagnostic checks without informing you of the reason behind them. Through my guilt I placed him in an impossible position but he agreed to be part of my deception in order to protect you. He found no trace that you were infected with Pa'nar syndrome; in his opinion, the disease cannot be transmitted to a Human. Although, the fact remains that I should never have been so reckless as to have instigated an exploration of Human sexuality with you."

Trip's emotions took another swerve leading him into dangerous ground. He had been devastated by her rejection of him, the morning after the incredible experience of making love to her. Therefore all T'Pol had to do was use the term 'exploration of Human sexuality' and Trip found he was in full defensive mode. She was the Vulcan in this relationship and they were supposed to be ruled by logic. Yet it seemed that when _she_ had seduced him, T'Pol had acted on a passionate impulse. Trip was so confused and irritated by her announcement, he forgot all about his pledge of silence.

"Then why did you..?"

"I never intended to take our relationship that far. I had accepted that I was drawn to you and that I wanted more than just to be your colleague. I envied the ease with which Humans can become friends and that was what I thought I wanted from you. While I was recovering from being exposed to Trellium D on the _Seleya,_ I discovered that my emotions were much easier to access. During our first neuropressure session, after I returned to duty, I was able to relax and enjoy our physical contact much more. I was open to sharing your excitement when we touched each other. I could sense and fully understand your emotional responses to our intimacy."

Trip thought back to that session and remembered that it had been a very different experience. He had felt as though he was being branded with a deep sweet pain every time her fingers touched his naked skin. It had taken all his strength to remain still under her ministrations and maintain the regular breathing regime T'Pol demanded. At the time he had told himself that it was all in his imagination. But, T'Pol's admission that she had been aware of and had enjoyed his reactions to their contact, made the memory even more erotic for him. As the vivid images faded from his mind and Trip refocused on T'Pol he noticed that she looked as flustered as he felt.

"I had found a way to express my emotional attachment towards you, to demonstrate how important you were to me. The effect lessened as the Trellium D left my system and I mourned the loss of that freedom to access and enjoy emotions without guilt. Then the craving for the feelings grew so great I obtained some Trellium D ore and devised a way to process it…so that I could inject myself with the ore."

Reeling from her admission that she had used artificial means to express her emotions, Trip felt like he had been kicked hard in the gut. He wondered how much of their relationship could be explained away by Trellium D. How could he have been so blind not to have realized that by instigating _her exploration into sexuality _with him, she was acting against everything that made her Vulcan? Trip did not want to lose that wonderful night, when he had believed that T'Pol had given herself to him of her own free will, but he had to know the truth. He stumbled over the question that he hated to ask, "Were you using Trellium D when we…made love?"

T'Pol forced herself to make eye contact with him so that she could observe the betrayal seared into the eyes that stared back at her. She had caused this and the shame was such an unbearable agony T'Pol knew she was close to breaking point. She had to fight against her urgent need to flee from her emotions so that she could continue to face him. To fight her urge to end her own pain, T'Pol reminded herself that Trip deserved to know every sordid detail of her descent from logic. Although she was forced to lower her head in order to avoid his gaze as she answered his question.

"I felt threatened by your interaction with Corporal Cole; the Trellium D exacerbated those feelings to the point that I had to act. I determined that if I gave you what I knew you wanted, then you would lose interest in a person I considered to be a rival."

"Damn it T'Pol, I have never felt like that about Amanda. You got it all wrong; I'll admit that we flirted with each other and that our neuropressure sessions were a bad idea. I honestly thought I didn't have a chance in hell of ever being with you. Jon told me what it was like on the _Seleya_ and how badly you were affected. What the hell were you thinking, you could have died; no emotion is worth that!"

"But if I had not used Trellium D I would never have realized that my feelings for you went far deeper than a desire for friendship."

This latest declaration stunned Trip to silence. His anger at her incredible behaviour started to seep away as he realized that she had just come as close as she ever might to admitting that she loved him. The words she had spoken should have made Trip feel like he was on top of the world but because of the cost to her, all he could taste was ash. The realization he could have lost her because of the risks she had taken were almost too hard to bear. He was close to being emotionally spent when he finally responded, "Honestly, I would never have wanted you to risk your life just so we could get closer."

T'Pol heard the weariness in his voice and thought she could predict what his decision about their relationship would be. How could there be any other option once he knew everything but that he would reject her as a mate? She should stop this torture and save herself more pain but there was one last painful admission that had to be voiced.

"During the attack at Azati Prime I was paralyzed by my lack of control. I should have issued the order for _Enterprise _to withdraw but I did nothing and failed in my duty to protect the crew."

"Damn I knew something was wrong, you weren't making any sense! You were in no state to command and I knew that and did nothing."

T'Pol looked down at her clasped hands, her humiliation palpable in her hushed voice, "I failed you, I failed the crew, but after I risked my life to feed my addiction, I finally understood that I could no longer function without Trellium D. I went to the sick bay and admitted what I had done to Doctor Phlox. He has helped me cope with the effects of withdrawal but I will never again be able to experience full control of my emotions."

She was finished; there were no more secrets to hide away from his enquiring mind. There were no more shadows to block and warp their bond but T'Pol was saddened by the thought that it no longer mattered. Even though he was alive, she had by her actions killed their relationship. She would have to mourn his withdrawal from her while he remained in sight; untouchable. Filled with the deepest sorrow, T'Pol was desolate as she asked for his verdict.

"I have told you everything so now you need to decide."

Trip had leant forward as though the pain he felt was physical, one hand covering his mouth, as his eyes conveyed his shock at this last revelation. They sat opposite each other in total silence as he watched his T'Pol, a supposedly logical and stoic Vulcan, sitting slumped over, her head bowed low in misery.

Then his heart went out to her as he realized just how difficult it had been for her to tell him everything that had happened. It was as though the puzzle that was T'Pol had been laid out in front of him. She had stripped herself bare and berated herself and her actions until she bled. So, she was not the perfect cold machine that her kind seemed to yearn to be, but could he live without her? Trip knew the answer to that question even before he asked it of himself.

He leaned closer toward T'Pol and stretched out his hand, managing to reach and lightly touch the knee closest to him, and get her attention. T'Pol slowly looked up at him; the weary mask she wore on her face reflecting her complete exhaustion. Trip then patted the empty space beside him on the bunk, gesturing that she should come and sit down beside him.

"Listen to me, the Xindi knew where we were. Even if I had taken charge, the end result would have been the same; I doubt I could have followed the order to leave Azati Prime."

T'Pol gazed at him as her eyes glistened with threatened tears. She was surprised by his reaction and the gentleness she heard in his voice. Rising stiffly from the chair she walked over to take the offered place beside Trip although she still did not consider she deserved it. She sat down, leaving a slight distance between them because she was unsure of her welcome. Then she felt Trip's arms encircling her body and she only offered a little resistance as he pulled her closer to rest against him.

They sat quietly huddled together for some time. Trip's leg was beginning to ache at being held in the same position for so long but he ignored this discomfort to focus all his energy on being there for T'Pol. She made no sounds or movements but he knew she was crying from the growing pool of dampness he could feel on the front of his T-shirt.

Just when he thought he couldn't manage to hold on any longer, T'Pol shuddered and gasped as though she was waking from a bad dream. She pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes swollen and face blotchy from her tears. He took the opportunity to lean down to plant a light kiss on one of her wet cheeks before using his fingers to gently wipe her face.

"Just so you know, I love you and want you. Why don't we look after each other from now on, deal?"

For an instant T'Pol could not believe his words of forgiveness. It was so much more than she had expected; but she searched his face and saw no anger or hatred there. Grateful beyond words to have the chance to be with him, T'Pol placed her hands on either side of Trip's face and drew him closer so that their foreheads touched. In that way she was able to show Trip her gratitude and love, letting it flow through their connection and feel him return those feelings with joy in his heart.

Finally when T'Pol felt calm enough to give him an answer, she whispered, "I find that deal to be agreeable."


	14. Chapter 14

**Communication

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**

**Chapter Fourteen

* * *

**

Malcolm was standing in front of the service hatches in the mess hall. He had been there for at least two or three long minutes and he still could not make up his mind what he wanted to eat. His indecision was due to the fact he was only there because his body had finally managed to alert him that sustenance was urgently required. Although he could find nothing in the culinary options laid out in front on him, which had the slightest appeal. Luckily there were not many crew members at the hatches because if there had been, there was no doubt someone would have asked him if he was okay. The truth was that Malcolm felt like he was treading water and he was finding it more and more tiring. He used to have a purpose when they had been on a life or death mission to find and stop the Xindi from destroying Earth. However that had been taken away from him when _Enterprise _went through the wormhole leaving them all stranded in the wrong place and time. His life had then become meaningless.

Malcolm recognized he was solely responsible for the wall he had built between him and the rest of the crew. Although he accepted this knowledge, it did not help him, as he had long since stopped trying to drag himself out of the grey world that he was trapped within. Instead Malcolm felt an ever strengthening need to hide from contact with even those members of the crew he considered friends. That was why he always carried a work PADD with him everywhere he went. It made him look busy and was used to head off pointless conversations. One such recent conversation had been with their Skagaran guest. He had asked if he could adopt part of Malcolm's first name. The little male had explained that in Skagaran, 'colm' meant 'to be wise'. He had decided to welcome Malcolm as his first contact with another species and believed that to be a sign that he was ready to learn from others and therefore gain wisdom. Malcolm had politely agreed even though, in his depressed state of mind, he felt that he had effectively given Colm his place at the Captain's side.

Colm of the Kai clan, to give him his full title, was also in the mess hall. He was in a group at one of the few occupied tables. When Malcolm had entered, the first thing he heard was Hoshi's voice as she discussed Skagaran syntax with the diminutive Colm. The little male had responded with the exuberant confidence of a person who had been accepted as an honoured guest. Malcolm had also noted the other occupants at the table with trepidation until he assured himself that there was no room for him to join them. Travis, his arm no longer in the sling that had been his badge of honour, was also there with the Captain. They formed an appreciative audience as the language chatter continued between Colm and Hoshi. Doctor Phlox and Medic Amanda Cole were also part of the group, although they had their heads close together and it was obvious their conversation was a private one, conveniently drowned out by the high spirits of the other members.

Aware that any further prevarication was only likely to draw attention his way, Malcolm grabbed the nearest plate of food and headed towards an empty table next to the entrance. Only when he was about to sit down did he glance at the meal he had chosen and realize with a groan that he was having bean salad for lunch. Or more precisely the kind of food his father labeled, with a disapproving sneer, as 'Rabbit Food'. He was not prepared to return the salad so he made a half hearted stab at a crisp fresh lettuce leaf, grown in _Enterprise's _own Hydroponics Bay, and tipped it into his mouth. Malcolm was just concluding that the lettuce's lack of taste was perfectly matched with one grown in Earth soil under the rays of their sun, when Major Hayes entered the mess hall. He was caught off guard and failed to avoid making eye contact with the major. Malcolm was instantly disappointed to see Hayes gave him a firm nod in acknowledgment, which he returned with a feeble wave of the fork he was holding. While Hayes was making his food selection Malcolm acted quickly to activate the PADD and hold it up in front of him to ensure he was sending out the 'I'm busy signal' loud and clear.

"Mind if I join you, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm merely lifted his head to give his agreement before returning to his study, annoyed that his tactics had failed to discourage Hayes. His continuing rudeness was definitely proving to be ineffective as the major placed a plate of food onto the table and went to select a beverage.

"Busy Lieutenant?" Hayes remarked as he returned and noisily pulled a chair back before sitting down.

Malcolm considered making a sarcastic reply to Hayes' blindingly obvious comment, but he found he didn't have the energy even for a verbal fight, so instead he settled for a weary, "Aren't we all Major."

"No, and that's the source of my current problems. You've got military experience; can I run something by you?"

Malcolm powered down his PADD and placed it protectively beside him. He found that despite his current state of mind, the idea that Hayes was, by his own volition, about to share his problems very intriguing. He even chose to ignore the phrase 'military experience' although he noted it as yet another belittling slight.

"What's the problem…?"

At that moment they were distracted by the arrival of the Ikaaran, Esilia. A strikingly tall and beautiful young female, she was casually dressed in a borrowed t-shirt and trousers. Her entrance interrupted all conversation as the few crew dotted around the mess hall watched her rush to the table where the captain was sitting.

Esilia grabbed a chair from a nearby table and pushed it between the narrow space that separated Archer and Travis. Both men gallantly shuffled their chairs further apart to make room for her. As soon as she was seated, Esilia moved her chair right next to the captain's and then she leant in to press her body up against him. Captain Archer seemed to be trying to ignore her physical proximity but the deep red colour of his face gave away his discomfort.

Hayes turned his full attention back to Malcolm and leaning across the table, hissed at him, "How the hell can I maintain disciple among my men with this sort of thing happening all over the ship!"

Not concerned about hiding his cynical view of their new mission, Malcolm responded, "Exactly what part of our mission did you not understand?"

He observed from the expression on Hayes' face that he was shocked by his display of attitude, but he did not regret the outburst. Malcolm went on regardless, venting at the craziness of their situation, "We stay out of trouble, make babies and eventually if we're successful breeders, our descendants get to complete our suicide mission!"

"Are you okay?"

Malcolm was surprised by the concern he could hear in Hayes' voice. For an instant the unexpected attention of another being jolted him out of his self absorption. He wondered if he had found someone to whom he could confess the depth of his duplicity. That secret part of his life when he had been willing to commit any act, no matter how morally suspect, as long as it meant he achieved the desired result. He only had to think about the terrible arrogance of that time to feel that what little self respect he had left was being eaten away. The fact his hidden life had even managed to reach Malcolm there, had all but broken him. However, as the moment receded, Malcolm recognised that he still could not speak the words that would make his life, as a serving Starfleet officer, a lie. He pushed aside Hayes' concern, "I'm just finding it difficult to adjust; I liked our old mission better!"

"You and me, both," Hayes stated grimly, as he raised his glass of water to toast to their shared point of view.

* * *

According to the ship's chronometer the hour was late. Most of the crew were off duty, apart from those few required to maintain the ship's course and systems. Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was in the deserted forward armoury working on yet another simulation of the battle at Azati Prime. He was still searching for any weaknesses in the Reptilian vessel that had inflicted such terrible damage on _Enterprise. _ There had been an unacceptably high number of fatalities as a result of the fire power targeted on _Enterprise's_ weapons and he was desperately looking for a strategy that would have led to a different outcome. Although it was illogical, he felt personally responsible for each and every individual who had been killed or injured.

At a particularly critical point during the virtual, but still vicious battle, the comm bleeped to notify him of an incoming message. Malcolm tried to ignore the insistent noise but his concentration had already been diverted and he could only watch as his _Enterprise_ exploded dramatically across the black screen.

Muttering to himself, Malcolm quickly crossed over to the nearest comm point to activate it, "Reed here, better be good because I'm rather busy!"

There was nothing but silence in response and that made Malcolm think someone was playing a prank on him. A bored crewman on nightshift doing the equivalent of a game he had played as a child. He could still remember the excitement of pressing a neighbour's door comm and then running away as if his life depended on it. He vowed that there would be no escape for this perpetrator; there would be no safe haven especially with Malcolm Reed on the case.

"Believe me, you will not find this funny when you're scrubbing conduits for the next month. Our communication system is not to be used for this sort of nonsense!"

"Believe me, Lieutenant, there is nothing you can do which is any worse than the treatment that has already been meted out on me."

Malcolm stared in mute horror at the supposedly benign devise in front of him.

"Are you still with me _Sir!_" the disembodied voice queried with exaggerated concern. Malcolm realised then that he was being mocked and he knew exactly who his tormentor was.

"Masaro, you are in breach of the conditions of your release from the brig." Reed managed to blurt out while his mind was already racing forward with possible ideas and options of how to deal with this particular problem.

"I don't seem to care Sir."

"Well I _do_ care Crewman, so give me your position and I will see to it that you are returned to the brig."

"And I thought my latest _misconduct_ could be our little secret, just like the last time?"

At that Malcolm saw vivid red and his hands became tight fists which he longed to use to inflict a swift and hard right jab or two to the jaw of that snivelling piece of excrement.

"Just tell me where you are, right now!" he shouted back in frustration, furious that there was nothing he could do but comply with Masaro's suggestion.

"I thought so, you and I actually have more in common than you think." Masaro crowed.

"You've got that wrong, you son of a…"

Masaro interrupted Malcolm, and from the arrogance in his tone, it was obvious how much he was enjoying the game he was playing, "I'm in the computer core access point on level D. Make sure you come alone and don't alert anyone, you really wouldn't want me to do anything stupid, Sir."

Malcolm was already racing towards the arms locker at the back of the armoury as Masaro issued his chilling threat and then ended the transmission. He hastily opened the locker, grabbed the nearest phase pistol and started to charge it up as he hit the door control. Malcolm then ran at full speed to the nearest turbo lift and as he waited impatiently for it to arrive he bristled with indignation at being compared to the bigot he knew Masaro to be. He also worried about how Masaro had managed to access an extremely sensitive area of the ship without tripping one of his security alarms.

* * *

When Malcolm reached the entrance that led to the computer core he stopped to check the monitoring system for the restricted area. He was surprised to see that although it did indicate that someone was inside, Masaro had not been identified as an intruder. Worryingly that could only mean that he had managed to circumvent a supposedly secure locking mechanism. Malcolm decided that the question of how he had managed to do this was a mystery that was his personal priority to solve, after he had sorted out the arrogant young pup.

Malcolm keyed in his security code and then, to shield himself, he stood to one side as the door slid open. He carefully leant just far enough forward to peer into the gloom which was illuminated at floor level by safety lighting. There were also coloured lights running rhythmically up and down on the metallic panels that protected the core. They indicated the varying levels of activity for the collection, processing and exchange of data. The only other items of furniture were two deserted monitoring stations in the centre of the room. Malcolm knew that although the room appeared to be quiet and everything just as it should be, his senses were deceiving him. Even though the feeling he was walking straight into a trap was strong, Malcolm stepped into the room and keeping his back to the wall, reached for the control to close and lock the door behind him. Then he started to edge towards the centre of the room, scanning the area in front of him, the thudding of his beating heart was the only sound he could hear as he waited for Masaro to betray his position.

"Don't come any closer!"

Malcolm came to a halt beside the first monitoring station, his eyes searching the direction from where Masaro's voice had come. His vision was still adjusting to the low lighting so it took him a moment to register that one of the long metallic panels was out of place and propped up against its neighbour. He assumed that Masaro must be hiding behind it.

He felt that he was at too much of a disadvantage so he decided to take control of the situation. He reached out and activated one of the monitoring panel controls.

Immediately the room was bathed in illuminating light and Malcolm could see that the panel was leaning at an angle that made it easy for someone to crouch behind.

There was a sudden movement that caused the panel to shudder and Masaro stepped from behind it, his right hand stretched out toward Malcolm. There was a sleek black remote control device sitting in the centre of his open palm. Malcolm's attention was held by the flashing green indicator light on the sinister device.

"Place your weapon on the floor, Lieutenant…"

"And just why would I want to do that, Crewman?" Malcolm responded, playing for time as he tried to work out what Masaro was up to.

"If you stun me I will drop this device and there will be an explosion which will kill us both!"

"You are _crazy_, do you have any idea how much damage…?"

"Take it easy, Lieutenant…just call it a friendly warning. You really don't want to be here if I drop this, so I recommend that you do as I say."

Malcolm regarded his adversary in speechless horror. Masaro had a satisfied smirk on his very young face which showed clearly how much pleasure he was taking from all of this. Malcolm reeled at his own stupidity for never considering how dangerous Masaro could be. He was also beginning to make sense of the young man's comment that they had something in common. He obviously had access to technology that was most definitely not from Starfleet or available on the open market. When Malcolm had found the stash of covert equipment hidden in Masaro's quarters he had assumed it had been obtained by nefarious means. It had been the find that had linked Masaro to the theft of Trip and T'Pol's DNA. What if he had also been trained by and even worked for Section 31? Their ethos was that any means were justified as long as the best result was achieved, and the section's sole reason for existence was to protect Earth. Malcolm considered if it was possible they would have gone as far as to entertain the hatred of aliens as a way of protecting their world; Xenophobia as a means to an end? With dread in his heart, Malcolm worried for the future of Earth as he stared at what could well be a fellow agent of Section 31.

"So do you want to comply Lieutenant, or do you have a death wish, it doesn't matter to me, _you _choose."

Aware that Masaro was becoming impatient and that the hand holding the remote was trembling from the strain of keeping it in the same outstretched position, Malcolm carefully lowered his weapon and then slowly crouched down to the floor. He made sure that he kept his opponent in sight as he deactivated the phase pistol and placed it on the floor. Then he stood up, keeping his movements slow and steady and his hands in sight so as not to spook the increasingly hyped up crewman.

"Kick the pistol over to me…"

Malcolm immediately complied and then had to watch helplessly as Masaro kicked the weapon further away so that it clattered against one of the panels, and completely out of his reach. Masaro then reached down and pulled a small non Starfleet issue phase pistol from a trouser pocket in his uniform. He smiled over at Malcolm as he set the remote device down on the monitoring station desk nearest to him. Ominously the instant the remote was set down; the indicator changed to a display a steady red light.

Waving the weapon, he crowed at Malcolm, "In case you're interested, _it_ is set to kill. There's symmetry in this, don't you think?"

He _is _a raving lunatic, Malcolm thought with sickening clarity. He was facing a madman, but Malcolm questioned if he really was so far gone he could kill without provocation. He knew he needed more time, but how to get it without triggering a reaction from his opponent was going to be very difficult. He decided to test Masaro's state of mind with a pertinent question, "What happened to '_boom,' _we're dead?"

"I lied…there's a time delay, though the bomb is now armed."

"Why would you want to do this? If you destroy the computer core, you will take down _Enterprise_. I thought you loved Human Kind to the exclusion of all else. Yet you are about to commit the mass murder of your own race."

"I thought that you were far more stoic than that Lieutenant, almost Vulcan like in personality. It is strange what facing death can do to a person, that outburst was verging on the melodramatic! As to why I am doing this, I simply have nothing to lose. All that I have left to do; is to make sure no one else finds out what you've learnt about me …"

While Masaro was distracted by his own rambling and appeared to have decided that Malcolm was no longer a real threat, he took advantage by stealing a few steps, closing some distance on the young fool.

However, Masaro suddenly snapped back to reality before Reed could get close enough to launch an attack.

"_No_, no you can't stop me!"

Then a chilling sound cut through the tension as with a sharp click the red light on Masaro's device started to flash. For an instant both men were mesmerised by the flickering message.

"The final countdown has started, Lieutenant. You do know I have to kill you?"

"But you're too late; Captain Archer knows all about…"

"I _know_ you're lying, Lieutenant."

"Then you must know I also have nothing to lose!" Malcolm shouted; as with all his strength he threw himself at Masaro in a desperate attempt to reach and overpower him. The last thing he saw was the intense lightening bolt that hit him square on his chest and sent his body tumbling in burning agony towards the ground. Malcolm was dead before he made contact with the hard cold metallic deck.

* * *

Masaro sprinted along the corridor away from the computer core as fast as he could. He knew that even through the heavy shielding that protected the core, the internal sensors would have picked up the discharge of a phase weapon. The ship was in the process of being woken up and that meant time was running out for him to successfully complete his mission. He had to get to level E but wanted to avoid the nearest turbo lift in case he ran into a security detail sent to investigate. He ran in a large arc through still deserted corridors as he cursed his lack of fitness. Gasping for breath Masaro finally reached his destination and hit the request plate for one of the aft turbo lifts.

Then he heard the muted sound of an explosion coming from behind him and the ship trembled beneath his feet. Masaro tightened his grip on his phase pistol as the lift doors opened and was relieved to find that the interior unoccupied. So far so good, Masaro thought, as he stepped inside the lift and congratulated himself on a job well done. He told the computer to take him down to the next level as a general ship wide red alert sounded. He had killed the Lieutenant; he could still smell burning flesh and it was such a vivid image in his mind, it made him feel light headed. He was sure no one would ever have thought that he could have had it in him to commit such an act; to take a life. He found it difficult to believe that he had succeeded; it seemed unreal, like a dream, as the lift carried him away from the scene of his victory.

"See Lieutenant, I haven't destroyed your beloved ship. Everything is still working just fine, for what that's worth." He announced, before grinning to himself at the pointlessness of telling Reed anything. The Lieutenant's dead body as well as the catastrophic destruction of the computer data bank which contained all of the personal records stored by the crew would keep everybody busy, giving him valuable time for the final act of his mission.

Reaching Level E, he purposefully strode out of the lift, ignoring a female crewman presumably racing to her station, who reeled back out of his way in shock as the doors opened. Masaro paid her no attention although he heard her shout out his name, as he walked away. Nothing mattered anymore to Masaro because he knew that very soon no one would be able to touch him.

He reached the port airlock and keyed in his own security override code to open the locking mechanism.

When Masaro had been released from the brig, the orders were that he was to be watched at all times and not allowed free access to the ship. It had been a trying time but Masaro had been able to hold his patience. He had counted on the fact that the crewmen acting as his guards were also working long shifts and would eventually slip up, allowing him to collect the equipment he had hidden and then the information he needed. Masaro was actually disappointed by how easy it had all been in the end. Lieutenant Reed had found one store of his specialised equipment, but had not even considered the possibility that there was others stored far more securely. Once he had managed to get access to them he had all the time he needed to hack into the ship's computer while the crewmen, who he shared quarters with, slept.

Masaro locked the hatch behind him, sealing himself off from the rest of the ship. He leant back against the wall beside the external hatch and watched through the viewing port to see if there was any activity in the corridor. He could not help but be disappointed that there was no sign that anyone knew he was there. He wished he could have left a note behind. One which expressed his honest belief that Captain Archer's mission was doomed to fail. He wanted to point out that if this _Enterprise_ was still around when the Xindi probe was launched, a crew of alien hybrids would have no interest in saving a world that meant nothing to them. He would have said that he was convinced the only real way to save and protect Earth, was to share warp technology with their forebears.

Although Masaro hated that he had to remain silent, he had to show restraint because he could not leave any clues that might lead to a witch hunt, in the future. However, Masaro was able to comfort himself with the knowledge that his father would have been proud of him and his actions.

He addressed his last words to the man he had just killed,"I told you that we were alike Lieutenant, neither of us can live without a purpose."

Masaro then keyed a second code into the external hatch locking mechanism, which fooled _Enterprise_ into thinking a ship had docked on the other side. He had only to hit a button to open the hatch. He hesitated for a moment, his finger hovering over the control, until he thought he could hear the sound of running feet closing in on his position. Then Masaro activated the control and for an instant he glimpsed the sheer immensity of the cold dark space in front of him before he was surrounded and claimed by the frozen void.


	15. Chapter 15

**Communication

* * *

**

**Chapter Fifteen

* * *

**

The immensity of the night sky and the undulating shadowy land dwarfed the solitary shimmering pool of light from the campsite. The fire was burning brightly; the yellow flaming tendrils providing light and warmth to ward off the cold darkness of night. There were tiny explosions as sparks broke free from the logs fuelling the fire; only for their flash of heat to be swallowed up by the surrounding cool air. A fire's ferocious appetite for destruction was contained by a circle of stones beyond which two single tents were pitched, side by side. Two male figures were sitting on opposite sides of the fire, each holding a glass that was raised to the sky in a solemn toast.

"To Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, a man I was proud to serve with on _Enterprise_!" The older male declared, his voice earnest with deep felt emotion, as he lifted his glass still higher.

His younger companion added his own salutation, "To Malcolm, one of the best friends I've ever had!"

Then they lowered their glasses to take a sip of a precious taste of home; Kentucky Bourbon. Captain Archer had opened the very last bottle from his personal stash for this private commemoration in honour of Malcolm Reed.

They had returned to Little Earth just over a month after Malcolm's death, because it had been decided to establish a small community on the planet. Ten of the crew had volunteered to set up home there and start the process of crop cultivation. Along with Trip, Jon had spent the day exploring the site that had been selected for the settlement. There had been a lot to plan and it had been an exhausting although cathartic day for him. It had been good to be in the open air after being cooped up on _Enterprise, _and doing something that required his full concentration. Jon had been able to divert himself from brooding over Malcolm's death and enjoy shooting the breeze with Trip, his oldest friend. Even though, if anyone had been listening in, it would have been obvious they were both taking care to avoid any discussion of the recent terrible events. That was until they were resting by the camp fire and Jon had decided to break out the bourbon to pay tribute to their dead friend.

The captain absentmindedly swirled the contents of the glass in his hand and stared at the centre of the fire, and then announced in dull flat tone, "I failed him Trip, just as I've failed the rest of the crew."

"How do you work that out, Cap'n?" Trip responded, before taking another gulp of the amber nectar he was drinking in memory of his dead friend.

"There's no need for formalities, we're off duty and I would appreciate your honesty as a friend. I don't need to be protected from my failings."

"Well, the drink must be getting to me because I'm not following you, Jon. You'll need to tell me what you could have done to prevent us going back in time; from ending up here? There's not one person on _Enterprise_ who hasn't struggled to get to grips with what has happened, but I haven't heard you being blamed for any of this." Trip made a sweeping gesture with his arms to emphasis the point, spilling a small quantity of precious liquid from his glass in the process.

There was no response from Jon and Trip could see that he had retreated into himself and appeared to be preoccupied by his intense study of the flames, as they danced in the slight breeze fanning the fire.

The fire crackled and spluttered as a large log collapsed into its heart, throwing out more sparks that ricocheted against the rocks containing the fire. Trip gently rocked his torso to fight the stiffness he still suffered as a result of his injuries and then repositioned his newly repaired leg, stretching it out in front of him. He still had to work on strengthening the muscles, but Phlox had pronounced the bone to be fully healed and better than ever. Although, after a particularly long day, his leg would ache, reminding him of the trauma he had had to endure. It had only been a month since he had returned to duty; the day after Malcolm had been murdered.

Trip was left with vivid impressions of that terrible night. He had been woken by T'Pol from a deep, restful and healing sleep, which was the direct result of the regular meditation and neuropressure regime T'Pol had instigated. Trip had opened his eyes to find T'Pol, crouched beside him. When she had made sure he had fully regained consciousness, T'Pol told him straight that Malcolm was dead. Trip appreciated that she had not treated him like an invalid who needed to be protected from such terrible news. That she had not left him to sleep on, oblivious to what was happening in the rest of the ship. She seemed to have instinctively known that it was best not to try and spare him distress. Though, Trip knew her decision to wake him had to have come at a cost to her equilibrium, as he broke down, loosing all control of his emotions. However difficult it must have been for her, T'Pol had stayed close to him, expressing her concern by holding his hand to make sure he knew that she was there.

Once Trip had recovered sufficiently to sit on the edge of his bunk, he had watched as T'Pol, who had been ordered to report to the bridge, quickly got dressed. As he was excused from duty on medical grounds, Trip had no work to do to give him the purpose, which at that moment he craved. He had therefore decided that he should be with Malcolm; T'Pol had told him that his body still lay where he had killed. She had gently tried to dissuade him from this course of action, but he had remained adamant that it was the very least he owed his friend. He had been so grateful to T'Pol that she had not utilised her considerable logic to point out that Malcolm was no longer there; that what lay in the computer core was only a lifeless carbon based unit. Instead T'Pol had quickly backed down as soon as she had realised that Trip was determined to pay his last respects.

While T'Pol went on preparing herself for duty she had continued to fill Trip in on what she knew of the night's events. She had explained that Crewman Masaro was suspected of killing Malcolm and also of setting off an explosive device that had destroyed the personal records of the crew.

He remembered that he had felt numb with shock at the news that a crewman under his command was suspected of committing such terrible crimes. At the time, he had expressed his incredulity to T'Pol that this had been allowed to happen, "I thought Masaro was under constant watch, that he was not allowed free access to the ship after completing his shifts. How could he have done this without detection?"

"He was a very talented engineer as well as having exceptional system programming abilities. Captain Archer is also concerned that he may have had assistance."

"So where is Masaro now?"

"He killed himself. He gained access to the port air lock on this level, and was able to override the controls and open the outer hatch."

Trip had been horrified by this latest revelation; he found it difficult to match the information he had been given, with his memory of the sullen baby faced young man who had showed such talent as an engineer.

"Why…" had been all he could manage to utter, as he wondered if he was really awake or in the middle of a terrible nightmare.

Observing the level of his distress, T'Pol had immediately stopped and sat down next to him. He had drawn his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around them as though he was holding onto his sanity for dear life. She had again touched one of his hands, in order to help ease his pain with her physical contact. When he roughly pulled his hand away, Trip had immediately felt her alarm, but it had only been so that he could claim her hand and clasp it tightly in his.

T'Pol had shared her strength and love with him through their bond, while providing an outlet for his precarious emotional state by talking about what had happened.

"We may never know how Masaro managed to do what he did. The bomb was precisely targeted to destroy only the personal information stored in the computer core. He might have wanted to destroy incriminating evidence or might even have held a grievance against a crewman."

"I should have done more, spoken to him, done something. I _was_ his commanding officer. I _am_ responsible for his actions."

"Trip, please listen to me. Although he was a truculent young man, no one could have expected him to be capable of the acts he committed."

Trip had felt a wave of gratitude for the fact that T'Pol was there with him which he transmitted through their bond, as he carefully lifted her hand and brought it up to his lips. "Do I tell you enough, how much you mean to me?"

"Frequently Ashal-veh, but it is appreciated. I would like to stay with you, but I must report to the bridge."

"No problem, would you mind if I walked part of the way with you? I know I'm a mess and people will talk…"

Trip could not help but smile to himself as he recalled how T'Pol had quickly and expertly run her eye over him; examining his sleep dishevelled hair, his crumpled nightwear and even the casual slip-on shoes on his feet.

"Your appearance is acceptable to me and the crew are already aware of our situation. Although I have never concerned myself with what people say about us."

"And that is just one of the many things I love about you." Trip had responded, as he released her hand and reached out for the metallic walking stick he kept near his bunk. He remembered that T'Pol had walked with him, staying close by his side, until they reached the place where Malcolm had died…

"Hey Trip, you still here with me!"

Startled from his thoughts, Trip looked up to see that Jon was on his feet and peering down at him. The first thing he noticed was that the fire had lost most of its ferocity. Then he realised that Jon was holding two large logs, and several smaller ones balanced in his arms, from the pile of kindling they had prepared earlier.

Jon leant down and started to stack the logs onto the hot embers that surrounded the dwindling fire, allowing air to circulate between them and fresh ribbons of fire to grow. When yellow flames were licking at the pale flesh of the wood he sat down.

"Refill?" Jon asked, as he reached for the bottle of amber liquid, which was stored beside the tree stump he had claimed as his seat.

"No thanks." Trip replied, holding up his glass to show that he still had a plentiful supply.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Jon poured a small measure into his empty glass.

"You _do_ know that living with T'Pol is changing you?" He remarked, as he raised the glass to his lips, taking a sip and savouring its heady potency by swirling it round his mouth, and then following its heat as it trailed down his throat.

Surprised by Jon's comment, Trip laughed out loud, "For the better I hope!"

"You seem to be very content; more centred and less emotional. I'd never have thought it possible that your relationship could work, but it does and I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, at least I think so, because it sounds like you're saying I'm turning into a Vulcan?" Trip teased, although he knew what Jon meant and agreed that the observation was spot on. Having T'Pol in his mind; a wonderful constant in his life, which gave him such a feeling of being at peace, was helping him deal with the turbulent times they were living through.

"I wouldn't go that far! Wait a minute; T'Pol's not listening in at the moment …is she?"

Trip was really amused by the expression of mortified embarrassment on Jon's face, as if he was a child caught red-handed raiding a cookie jar! However, he decided to resist the urge to tease him further on this subject.

"No, definitely not, T'Pol is very particular about _not_ invading my privacy. I'm always aware of the bond between us, though. It's difficult to explain what it's like. I feel a constant buzzing sensation in my mind; like tiny electric shocks, except that it's a really good feeling."

Jon shuddered, unable to stop his face from showing his distaste at the idea, "I don't know how you can cope with that? I mean, how can you think with that kind of noise in your mind all the time?"

"I _did _say that it is difficult to explain; all I know is that since T'Pol and I officially got together, I'm far more clear-headed then I've ever been. You don't need to worry about your chief engineer, Jon."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it." Jon said, smiling across at Trip before draining his glass and then firmly placing it on the grass beside him.

Suddenly the mood changed, because Jon had been reminded of his guilt at his part in Malcolm's death. He felt he had no right to think of anything else while the circumstances of his friend's murder remained a mystery.

"What am I going to do? I can't shake off the feeling that I missed something; that I could have done more to help Malcolm."

"Listen, Masaro was under my command and I had given up on him a long time ago. Don't get me wrong, he was a brilliant engineer, but his personality stank. Hell, I was on the recruitment board that green lighted his application to serve on _Enterprise_. I should have recognized from the very beginning that there was something not quite right about him,but I always excused his behaviour because he was so young and immature. I'm responsible, I got it wrong."

"Well I wasn't blind to his faults either. I know we're both feeling guilty as hell about Malcolm, but the buck stops with me, although I meant what I said at the funeral."

Jon knew the alcohol was contributing to his self-pity, making him long for some sort of punishment for his apparent failings. In the month since he had lost Malcolm, he had veered from extreme anger to the darkest despair, as he mourned the senseless death of a fine officer and friend. The sordid story of Masaro's machinations had been unearthed during the investigation, along with the fact that he had been a fanatical xenophobic. Therefore, Jon had not been at all surprised to learn that Masaro had blamed him and his command officers for their current predicament.

Crewman Willis had come forward to reveal his involvement in the abortive plan to mutiny and return _Enterprise _to an Earth that would have been unrecognisable to the crew. Jon had been shocked by Masaro's outrageous plan to gift warp drive technology to their home world. To give such a powerful tool to their planet just as it was emerging from a brutal world war, would have been completely wrong on so many different levels. Masaro's thinking had been blinkered by his desire to leave Earth untainted by aliens at all cost, and Jon could only give thanks that very few of his crew had wanted anything to do with the young man's crazy ideas.

Willis had reluctantly provided the names of those crew members who he knew had sympathised with their cause. Jon had then proceeded to interview each one individually and that had turned into a very painful process. The exchanges had been frank and open and he had come to understand the anger and hopelessness of crewmen who had been alienated by his inability to reach out to them.

After widening his investigation to speak to the crew who had not been involved in the conspiracy, it had dawned on him why Masaro's idea had appealed so strongly to Willis and the others. He had held out a promise that they would be able to return to Earth, and it had not actually mattered that it was not the Earth of their time. Jon realised he had ignored the crew's distress at being marooned, without hope of ever seeing their loved ones and homes again, but had still expected them to accept his plan without question. Every conversation he had, become a lesson in enlightenment for him. He encouraged complete honesty, and in return, received feedback on his leadership that at times left him reeling. He was told that since the Xindi attack he had been distant and not open to criticism, even from his senior officers.

Jon was left wondering why he had assumed his crew would follow him blindly, when he had never thought to explain the important decisions he had taken on their behalf.

However, what hurt him even more was that he still did not know why Masaro had killed Malcolm. Not one member of the crew had been able to pinpoint a reason for Masaro to take this action. He knew the young engineer must have had a strong hold on his armoury officer, for Malcolm to ignore protocol and go into a dangerous situation without backup. He also berated himself for being so caught up in other matters that he had not taken time to speak to Malcolm or even notice that he had lost his spirit. Never before had he questioned his conviction that he had the right to lead, but this event had shaken his confidence. The discharge of the phase pistol that had burnt straight through Malcolm's heart; had also wounded him to his very core, changing everything he believed in.

After days of indecision, it had taken the intervention of Lieutenant Hoshi Sato to force Jon to start planning a funeral service for Malcolm. _Enterprise _had been in orbit around a planet that was being considered as a suitable home for Colm. Jon had spent more time, than was necessary, shut away in his ready room, staring out at a planet that was larger than Earth although with a much smaller land mass. It was the vast and brilliant blue oceans that had mesmerised him.

Over a fortnight after Malcolm's death, Hoshi had entered his sanctum without waiting for an invitation, and found him standing at his viewing port, gazing intently at the planet's surface. She had sat down and waited until Jon was forced to acknowledge her presence.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant Sato?"

"We need to do something about Malcolm, Captain! We all need the chance to say goodbye and I think this would be the perfect place; somewhere he can rest in peace. I would find it comforting to know that he is here and when we come back to check on Colm…"

"Nothing has been decided yet."

"As far as Colm is concerned it has. He likes everything he has seen of their culture. The surgical procedure to make him look like the inhabitants of the planet will be straightforward. He is a quick learner and with my help has already managed to pick up a basic vocabulary. He has no concerns about the culture being pre-industrial; it seems the simple life appeals to Colm."

After Malcolm's death, anger had become a starting point for a lot of Jon's conversations; his response to Hoshi's suggestion had been no exception.

"So you are suggesting that we leave Malcolm here, just another piece of space debris orbiting this planet!"

Jon could still remember the deep sorrow on Hoshi's face at his unreasonable reaction. It still moved him, as it had when the sight of it had shocked him, as he witnessed the reality of her pain. At the time, he had mentally kicked himself for being annoyed with her for no good reason, even though his need to lash out had almost become second nature.

He had also known that Hoshi would not be easily dissuaded from her course of action by his harshness. Her next words had confirmed this, "Sir, I do understand that this is painful for you, but Malcolm is gone and I want us to acknowledge and honour the contribution he made to _Enterprise_. I think this is the most beautiful planet in the Expanse and that Malcolm would have been pleased to be left here; it reminds me of our home."

Jon had gazed out at the azure gem of a planet, "Don't know if he would be so keen about looking down at all that water. Malcolm was never very fond of it, that's why he ended up in space."

Hoshi had let out a snort of disbelief at Jon's comment before responding with unabashed sarcasm, "Sir, if I understand you correctly, you'll agree as long as we make sure he never has to get his feet wet!"

He had not reprimanded her for insubordination; it had taken her angry words to finally jolt him out of his lethargy. He had sat down, resting his elbows on top of the desk so that he could cradle his head in his hands. Jon had not been able to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes, so he covered his face with his hands in a futile attempt to hide his distress.

"Are you okay Sir, I'm sorry if I upset you." Hoshi's tone had been softer and her concern for him shone through in her words. Still she had been resolute and had stayed seated while a less strong willed member of the crew would have silently crept away, rather than face the sight of their commanding officer reduced in that way.

After Jon had wiped away the tears from his face with his hands, he had finally been able to meet Hoshi's gaze.

"When I am on the bridge and I turn to the tactical station I always expect to see Malcolm there. All the time I get reminders that he's gone and that there will never be the chance to get to know him better."

"I understand exactly what you mean Sir." Hoshi had replied, her tone one of wistful sadness for their shared lost opportunities.

"Thank you for the wake up call, Hoshi, and you don't need to be so formal when it's just the two of us."

"I just thought you needed a little nudge in the right direction…Jon."

The funeral service had taken place the next morning. All crew apart from those required to man the bridge and vital areas of the ship were invited to attend the ceremony in launch bay two. The duty crew had been able to join those present by listening into the proceedings via a ship wide broadcast. The crew had filed in and lined the gantries above the torpedo tube containing Malcolm's remains, which had been placed at the centre of the launch bay and covered with a Starfleet flag. Jon had thought the dismal sound of the mourners' boots clanging against the metal walkways had been a fitting herald for the sadness of the occasion. He had stood beside the makeshift coffin with Trip and T'Pol behind him with his other senior officers, Travis, Hoshi and Doctor Phlox. He had looked across and registered that Major Hayes was standing with Colm, Esilia and her sister Kalen while an honour guard formed of MACOs and armoury crew stood to attention, in alternate lines around the four walls of the launch bay. When the room had fallen silent Jon had reached forward and laid his hand on the fabric that shielded the cold metallic coffin.

"We are all here to say goodbye to one of our own. Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was killed in action, trying to protect us and the ship he served with such pride. That it was another of our own, who senselessly murdered him, is hard to bear…"

Jon had faltered, afraid of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He had despaired at his weakness until he felt a hand grip his shoulder and, without looking round, he knew that Trip was with him; offering his support and giving him the power to carry on. He also had taken strength from Esilia, who had continued to hold his gaze as she willed him to complete this difficult task.

"…We all lost so much when we were stranded here in a different time; our homes and previous lives completely out of our reach. Each and every one of us has had to mourn the loss of all that we held dear. I know that this will not be the last funeral I will lead and that each will be as painful in its own way as this is."

At that point Jon had stopped to take in the room, looking once more at the familiar faces of the people listening solemnly to his words. He had noticed that although Trip resolutely kept his hand on Jon's shoulder, his head was bowed down as though he was in prayer. T'Pol, far from standing alone and aloof from the emotional proceedings, held Trip's other hand, the moisture glistening in her eyes betraying the notion that Vulcans were machine-like beings lacking in all emotion. Silent tears had run freely down Hoshi's face and Travis looked close to breaking down himself, as he comforted her. While Doctor Phlox's face had been fixed and unreadable as he solemnly stared at the receptacle that held Malcolm's remains.

Major Hayes, who had butted heads with Malcolm from the start of the Xindi mission, stood ramrod straight to attention; in silent tribute to his fallen comrade. Their three new friends; Colm, Esilia and Kalen had all experienced terrible loss themselves, and from their expressions Jon had been able to tell how much this ceremony moved them. Jon had also taken time to acknowledge the presence of the men and women crowded above him. They had stood in quiet witness, linked to each other either by holding hands or placing an arm over a neighbour's shoulder to give solace.

"Malcolm died trying to stop the destruction of the personal data stored in the computer core, which robbed us all of precious memories of our home and the people who are dear to us. Today we will begin the creation of a new database which our children and their children's children will be able view. In memory of Malcolm, I would like each of you to record a memory of him, to ensure that the sacrifice he made for all of us will be carried on through the generations. Malcolm may have died alone, but your memories will help keep him in our hearts. I want his legacy to be the inspiration for us all to come together and become a real family. We will only survive here if we stop looking back at what we have lost and start looking out for each other. We cannot bring Malcolm back, but I want to make sure we do not breed another Masaro."

Jon had tears in his eyes as he had turned towards Trip and offered him his hand. Trip reached out to accept while Travis had claimed Jon's other hand and that gesture was repeated among all those present until living chains surrounded Malcolm's coffin. Without any prompting, everyone had bowed their heads and there was a period of silent contemplation until finally Jon raised his head and shouted out, his voice hoarse with emotion, "For Malcolm!"

In reply everyone had raised their linked arms and repeated in unison, their voices resounding with emotion, "For Malcolm!"

At the end of the ceremony, the main funeral party had walked behind the coffin, as it was taken to the forward armoury. There they had said their final goodbyes and witnessed the committal of Malcolm's body from _Enterprise _to space_... _

Jon thought that Hoshi was right, the fact he knew that Malcolm's body was floating in his own orbit above that beautiful sphere, was indeed comforting. As he looked around the campsite and enjoyed the quietness surrounding him, he at last allowed himself to feel a moment of peace. Finally, Jon knew that it was the right time to give voice to a subject that he had been mulling over for a while.

"…I intend to retire from command; I want to settle here on Little Earth, do some farming."

Trip's face was a picture of stunned incredulity as he stared back at Jon over the flaming fire. Then it dawned on him that Jon might actually be serious and Trip could no longer contain his amusement. He guffawed loudly at the image his mind had conjured up of his friend, Farmer Jon.

As he wiped away his tears of mirth, which he noted had not shaken Jon's composure one little bit, Trip enquired, "so who would be captain of _Enterprise_ while you're living the quiet life, tending your crops."

"You and T'Pol could share the captaincy."

That wiped all trace of humour clean off Trip's face, "Are you out of your mind! Oh hell no, _Captain_ Jonathan Archer, T'Pol and I are doing just great as we are thanks. She has Science and I am the Chief Engineer. I'm telling you straight, there is no way our relationship would survive if T'Pol got any say in the running of my department!"

"So if you're saying that that option would cause discord. I'm afraid the only other alternative is for me to choose one of you to be in charge of the other, for operational purposes only…you understand."

Wearily Trip stood up, stretching to ease his body's stiffness, which had been caused by sitting too long in the same position. He walked round to where Jon was seated. A slight limp from his recently healed leg, the only outward sign left of his injury. When he was standing alongside his friend, Trip gingerly lowered himself onto the grass. He then tossed a few of the small stones he found on the ground into the fire, as he worked out how best to try to reason with Jon.

"You _are_ the captain of _Enterprise_, the starship you dreamt of commanding your whole life, and now you want to give that up to grow things. If you keep this up, I'll have to ask Doctor Phlox to investigate your sanity!

"You won't even consider the possibility that I am not the right person for this job, and even the possibility that I never was. Just because it was my dream, Trip…"

"It's a hell of a job and we were writing the rule book from our very first mission."

Jon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and then he stretched out an arm to push a fallen log back into the heart of the fire. Trip could see from Jon's hard expression; his lips were pursed and eyes narrowed, that he had already convinced himself that this was the right thing to do.

"If you meant what you said at Malcolm's funeral then you can't abandon us, not now. The day will come when you will know it is the right thing to do, but, with respect, until then you're stuck with the job."

"I'm tired Trip, and I don't have the ease for command you have. We were all devastated when we thought we'd lost you."

"I don't want to be the captain. I only make it look easy because I have had you to back me up every step of the way."

Trip then reached down and tugged at a tuft of grass until he'd yanked it out of the ground. A clump of damp earth, which was still attached, sprinkled onto his lap as he separated out a single blade of grass and held it up to the firelight, between two fingers.

"The colour of this grass is too dark and it's not the same shape as we remember from back home, but we still know it as grass. The soil is almost bright red in places and the night sky is not crowded with the dazzlingly array of stars we are used to, but we still call this terra-firmed alien rock, Little Earth. It would seem we need some constancy to survive out here, and you're our captain, whether you like it or not. Anyway you don't have to do this on your own; Esilia would like to help if you'll let her."

Jon gave out a laugh at the mention of the alien woman, which signalled his embarrassment, as he automatically reached for his glass. However, when he realised it was empty, Jon chose not to refill it, and instead turned it idly in his cupped hands, watching the reflection of the flames in the clear crystal.

After a moment, he asked Trip, in a quiet and serious voice, "Do you have any idea how young she is?"

"There's an age gap between me and T'Pol, it's not an issue."

"You _do_ know that T'Pol will still outlive you by many years."

"Hey, I never said that T'Pol was the cradle snatcher in our relationship! I won't have it any other way though. I know that a relationship between us in our own time won't stand a chance; we would have to deal with the disapproval of the Vulcans and hatred from our side. Here I have a real chance at a life with T'Pol and if that means I have to live in the wrong time, and in one of the worst neighbourhoods in the entire universe, that's fine by me."

"I envy you, I don't know if I can let anyone get that close. I've spent most of my life in the single minded pursuit of my father's dream."

"Well you're looking to change your life; Esilia could be exactly what you need, if you'll give her a chance."

Jon turned and stared at Trip and for a moment it seemed as though he was mulling over a suitable retort, based on the deep frown that was etched on his forehead. Then Jon chuckled to himself and started to slowly shake his head as though he could hardly believe what he was thinking.

"I never thought I would be on the receiving end of relationship advice from you, but what's even worse is that you're making sense!"

Trip reached across and gave Jon a playful slap on the back and then they both laughed out loud, their merriment cutting through the stillness of the dark night that surrounded them. The bottle of Kentucky Bourbon was offered up, and the younger man went to retrieve his glass, so that they could both share a toast to the future.

They continued to make plans long into the night until the need for sleep finally defeated them and they retired to their respective tents. In the early morning the two weary men stood where their camp had been, packed and ready to go. They excitedly scanned the sky for the first sight of their ride back to _Enterprise, _eager to rejoin the rest of the crew; their friends and family, so that they could get on with living.

* * *

**NB: Postscript to follow**


	16. Postscript

**Communication

* * *

**

**Postscript

* * *

**

T'Pol left the science laboratory, where she had just finished processing the results of her latest experiment, which was based on information provided by the Skagaran, Colm. In her right hand T'Pol carried a PADD, and because her work had taken longer than planned, she walked quickly in the direction of the quarters she shared with Trip.

Her task was to develop a way of adapting the sphere tractor beam technology, so that it could be added to the defensive armoury of their ship; _Enterprise_. This project had also captured Trip's imagination and she found discussing her progress with him extremely productive.

T'Pol knew Trip would be waiting for her to return to the quarters they shared. Their established routine would be to eat their evening meal while Trip examined the latest tractor beam simulation test results, and then together they would discuss the data and plan the next stage of the work.

Later in the evening, once the mediation candles had been lit, they would mediate, sitting cross-legged opposite each other on cushions placed on the deck. They would focus their minds until they could both enter their zone of tranquillity. This was a quiet time they could share and it had become T'Pol's idea of perfect harmony. Trip had appreciated learning how to bring order and calm to his mind after experiencing the full force of depression, as a result of his brain injury.

It had not escaped T'Pol's notice that as Trip became calmer and more controlled, she was finding it easier to be less restrained with regard to her own feelings. For the first time in her life T'Pol had accepted and felt comfortable with her emotional responses. While growing up on Vulcan, she had endured many negative comments that she was weak and a failure for her lack of emotional control. Therefore, it was a revelation to find that the open displays of emotion, she had been warned about, did not turn her into an irrational barbarian.

T'Pol had also been able to return to the pursuit of pure scientific reasoning, and that was contributing to the contentment she was feeling. Although, she knew the main cause could only be attributed to the relationship she was forging with a being so very different from her; the existence of their partnership would have been deemed as defying all logic, if presented to the Vulcan High Command.

Trip had given her so much simply by offering to love her, and T'Pol was incredibly grateful for the chance to know him and experience life as his bond mate. He continually surprised her, while they grew closer, showing great patience and tenderness when she hesitated or misunderstood his motives. In the quiet solitude that was their own space she was able to relax her guard completely and allow him to simply be with her.

Due to the late hour, the corridors she travelled along were empty of people and apart from the gentle hum of the engines under foot; there was nothing to indicate that _Enterprise _was under way. Most of the crew would either be in their quarters or engaged in some form of recreation in the mess hall or the gym, as the ship geared down for the last shift of the day. As she was alone, T'Pol felt comfortable about allowing her lips to curl very slightly upwards to form a smile, while a familiar tremor of excitement ran through her mind, at the first sight of her destination. She quickened her pace and hurriedly keyed in the code that opened the door, only to be caught by surprise at the sight that greeted her.

Their quarters were in darkness and empty. For an instant T'Pol panicked while her eyes searched the darkness, as if she could not believe her own senses. Then her Vulcan common sense re-established itself and she knew there was no need for concern as she could still feel the living bond that linked her to Trip.

T'Pol then activated the lights, to reveal the comfortable intimacy of their personal retreat. Vulcan artefacts and books mingled with photographs of Trip with his family and friends, alongside other joint mementos on the shelves lining the walls. A Vulcan language book Trip was studying, with T'Pol's assistance, lay on his side of the double bed which backed onto the wall where her bunk had once been. There was a narrow space between the bed and the outer wall which led to a small table and two chairs, positioned in the corner next to their bathroom. T'Pol stood in the space by the entrance, which served as their meditation area, and was therefore purposefully left clear of clutter.

Finding she had time on her hands, T'Pol placed the PADD, containing the data she had downloaded, onto the shelf nearest to her, and sat down on the bed to remove her boots. She then stowed them away and started to undress, every action made with grace and an economy of movement; unzipping her uniform and shedding it from her body as if it was a protective second skin. Once all of her clothing had been put away, she selected the casual attire she considered appropriate for evening wear; a man's red t-shirt and loose purple silk pyjama bottoms. Having placed those clothes neatly on the bed, a naked T'Pol strode towards the bathroom, intending to indulge in a long relaxing hot shower…

Trip could only curse his bad luck, when he discovered that T'Pol had already returned in their quarters. As he raced through the corridors that led to her, he knew that he would have been back in their quarters long before T'Pol, if there had not been a last minute problem in engineering that required the urgent attention of the chef engineer. A routine warp field diagnostic had thrown up results that at any other time, on any other day, he would have immersed himself in finding a solution. Unfortunately for him, it had to have happened at exactly the wrong time.

The crew working in main engineering had all given him very bemused stares when he had rushed in, or at least that was how it seemed to Trip. Their interest had been engaged because he was wearing his dress uniform, complete with service medals and boots that could only be made to shine that brightly after a lot of hard polishing. Each and every hair on his head was impeccably in place. While his face and hands were pink after being scrubbed clean of the day's quota of dirt; accumulated while climbing in and out and around various conduits in the deepest bowels of the ship.

His team sensed his exasperation and together they worked like a 'well oiled machine' to locate and rectify the problem. When he had wanted to stay to check that the warp field had indeed stabilized, Hess, Kelby and Kalen had presented a united front and insisted that he leave his baby in their capable hands. It had not taken much persuasion for Trip to agree that he needed to be elsewhere and he had hurriedly, though gratefully, thanked them as he rushed out of main engineering. Although, it already seemed as though his carefully worked out plan was unravelling in front of him and he felt his nerve starting to fail.

Trip paused outside the quarters he shared with T'Pol and took time to smarten up, smoothing the front of his uniform and nervously patting his hair into shape. Taking a deep breath, Trip then opened the door and stepped inside.

On hearing the muted sound of the shower, Trip immediately realized that T'Pol was in their bathroom. He could not help but smile broadly when he saw his red t-shirt laid out on their bed. The sight of T'Pol wearing it was guaranteed to turn him on, even though, unlike her figure hugging uniform, it skimmed over her beautiful body. Trip would occasionally wonder how Vulcans could explain away the logic of having their females dress in outfits that left very little to the imagination. It was strangely at odds with the coldly logical personas they liked to project.

With his resolve continuing to weaken, Trip stared fixedly at the closed bathroom door, as he tried to work out what he should do next. A special meal was waiting in the galley, but Trip had been too concerned that he was running late, to have made a detour to collect it. His mind wrestled with whether or not he should go and get their food, or if he should wait until afterwards, or even if he should forget the whole thing. At that moment he felt it had been really presumptuous of him to arrange a celebratory meal, when it was quite probable she would reject his proposal.

To put an end to his vacillation, Trip made up his mind to go and collect the meal, so at least they would have something to eat. However, just as he was about to activate the door control, the door to the bathroom suddenly opened, and there stood T'Pol wearing her blue silk robe. She looked at him curiously, while also transmitting a level of concern, as she started to walk towards him.

"Has something happened, why are you are in that uniform?"

Trip realized that because he had been caught at the point of rushing from the room, his actions could be interpreted as suspicious. The effort involved of keeping his plans for this evening secret from the person with whom he shared a mental bond had been so difficult; he found the task of formulating a suitable response to her question virtually impossible. He also felt more than a little ridiculous to be dressed so formally when T'Pol was virtually naked. For Trip, the evening went from bad to worse, when he finally blurted out, "No…no nothing's happened, just felt like wearing…"

Flustered, he stopped babbling as soon as T'Pol undid the ties of the robe and then lifted her hands to push it from her shoulders. The light material billowed gracefully to land in a heap at her feet. As always Trip was completely bewitched by her beauty, while she stood before him, unabashed by her nakedness.

Trip ran his tongue over his lips while his level of nervousness increased sharply. He was terribly conflicted about what he wanted to do next. T'Pol did not often initiate their sexual relations, but at that precise moment, she was sending him clear signals about her willingness to engage in intimacy with him. It would appear that seeing him in his dress uniform had elicited this amazing response. He knew this was the case; because she had fully opened her mind to him, and was sharing her appreciation of how good he looked. With extreme reluctance, Trip pushed down his own excitement, while filing away for future reference, the intriguing information that T'Pol had a well developed uniform fetish. He could hardly believe what he was doing as he abruptly turned to face away from her.

"You've no idea how sorry I am…but…could you put some clothes on? I need to ask you something very important."

"Why must I be clothed for you to ask me a question?" T'Pol asked, somewhat disappointed, and if she cared to admit it, more than a little peeved by her bond mate's reaction to her offer of intimacy.

Trip considered for a second if he had completely lost all sense, as T'Pol's feelings of rejection filtered into his mind. He immediately sought to repair some of the injury he had just caused, "Please, please know that I really love seeing you buck naked, anytime. It's just, I have to ask you something very important…Please T'Pol!"

"Very well, I will do as you ask."

Inhaling deeply to calm his nerves, he listened to the rustling noises behind him which indicated T'Pol was in the process of covering her body. Trip had faced pivotal moments in his life before, times of great joy and sadness, but this outweighed virtually all of these experiences and achievements. He had never reached the point before when this course of action felt right, and it felt wonderful and incredibly frightening, all at the same time.

"I have covered my body, you can proceed." T'Pol announced, and as he turned back to face her, Trip felt a sliver of fear slip cross their link.

Still Trip could not stop an ironic smile from forming on his face as he noted that T'Pol had decided to only wear his old red t-shirt. The hem tantalisingly only reached to the top of her thighs and she looked indecently hot in it. Out of nowhere, Trip was reminded of the stupid spy movies he had seen with his kid sister, Lizzy, at their local movie theatre. This felt exactly like one of the scenes where the spy had to deal with a beautiful femme fatal, determined to stop him from saving the world. Cray Crawford, the lead character in far too many of these flicks, was never at a loss when he found himself in those situations; he would disarm the female with his charm and then invariably bed her. However, Trip decided that had Cray ever encountered one as beautiful, intelligent and stubborn as T'Pol, he would have met his match. Trip realised that if he wanted to do this thing, he would have to do it without delay before his human desire overwhelmed him and he was lost to her charms.

He stepped closer to T'Pol and she transmitted her anticipation at impending victory, which quickly faded when he did not eagerly pull her into his arms; instead he knelt down on one knee in front of her.

Thoroughly confused by his behaviour, T'Pol gazed down at her bond mate, watching, as he removed a small black box from his jacket pocket.

"T'Pol, I love you and I want us to get married. Will you be my wife?"

Both of T'Pol's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. There followed an uncomfortable silence while she debated with herself how best to respond to this unexpected proposal. Finally she settled on stating the obvious, "We are bond mates Trip, we are joined for life, therefore I am already your wife."

"Yes, but I want everyone to know that we are a couple. I want us to stand in front of our friends and declare our commitment to each other. I do understand that what I'm talking about is a human tradition and that it goes against your need for privacy. But, don't Vulcans have marriage ceremonies?"

"You are correct when you say that I consider our intimate feelings for each other to be a private matter. However we also have to consider if it would it be dangerous for us to be open about our relationship. In our time, persons unknown went to a great deal of trouble to remove our DNA samples from _Enterprise_. The captain thinks Masaro was involved and his virulent hatred for alien species has been confirmed. What if we are open about our relationship and that information gets back to people who think like him…"

Trip cursed Masaro; it was wrong that the young man's twisted hatred could still reach out and cause pain. It angered Trip that they were allowing base ignorance to cast such a large shadow on their relationship; as though what they shared was a dirty secret that had to be kept hidden. For an instant he allowed his anger to turn to despair, and then an idea started to germinate in his mind, which then helped Trip formulate an argument to counter T'Pol's fears. He stubbornly remained on one knee while he gave voice to his thoughts:

"Our DNA was stolen because it was already suspected that we were in a relationship. Therefore, we know that people are opposed to the idea of us being together, and that they will look for ways to attack and hurt our future selves. What if they had our example to prove that a relationship between a Human and a Vulcan can work? We would be showing the haters that they can't win; we would be making stand, fighting back against their prejudice. We know what we feel for each other, but what if sharing our happiness could help our future selves deal with their feelings and the feelings of others towards them?"

Trip then lifted up the top of the box he was holding, to reveal a ring, resting on a cushion of black velvet.

"It would mean everything to me, if you would wear my ring?"

Although her doubts about this course of action were still very much present, T'Pol could not resist reaching out to remove the delicate ring from the container. She held it up to the light and closely examined the centrepiece, which represented a Vulcan IDIC. The circle was made from gold and the intersecting triangle inlaid on top of the gold base was a clear material inside which tiny flicks of brilliant blue had been captured. At the apex of the triangle a small brilliant white diamond glittered in the light. The centrepiece was cradled by thin golden threads which then crisscrossed over each other before coming together to form the band of the ring.

"Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations," T'Pol remarked out loud, as she continued to turn the ring in her fingers; fascinated by the way the light played on it, making the gold glint and the diamond glitter.

As he watched her examine the ring, Trip began to nervously explain the reasoning behind the design, "I was worried it might be offensive to use a sacred Vulcan symbol in this way, but I like what it represents and I had a lot of help to get it made. I wanted it to represent us and what we stand for…"

Trip started in shock, silenced by T'Pol suddenly thrusting the ring towards him. She was giving the ring back to him and it felt as if his world was ending. He couldn't move or speak; he just stared at the precious jewel that seemed to hang in the air between them.

"Trip, is it not the Human tradition that the male places the ring on finger of the female, once she has indicated that his proposal is acceptable to her."

It took a moment for Trip to register her meaning, "_Yes_, you're saying _yes_!"

In response, all Trip got was a raised eyebrow and a 'my bond mate is a little slow on the uptake' expression from T'Pol, which filled with him with such incredible happiness he promptly shared his feelings through their bond.

Shakily, Trip then got to his feet and took the ring from T'Pol, before reaching out to claim her left hand.

"Did you guess what the blue flecks in the triangle are?"

"I ascertained that they are organic but had not reached any other conclusions on the matter."

"Do you remember the only time we were together on Little Earth and I brought you some blue flowers as a peace offering? When I was back there with Jon, I found some more of the same flowers and discovered a way of retaining their colour so that small bits of the petals could be included in the ring. They are a memento of the day you first told me about our bond."

Trip then slipped the ring onto T'Pol's ring finger and for a moment they simply stared down at what was a physical symbol of their feelings for each other.

Then T'Pol stretched out her hand, still fascinated by the beautiful ring, which felt a little strange because she was not used to wearing such jewellery, "I won't be able to wear the ring while on duty, but I will wear it at all other times."

"That's fine, T'Pol. Thank you for making me the happiest man in the _entire _universe."

T'Pol could not resist the temptation to tease Trip, especially as he had provided her with such a blatant example of hyperbole. She knew he liked when she picked up on this even as she noted that Trip had a huge grin plastered all over his face, which backed his claim of extreme happiness.

"I doubt that you will be able provide sufficient evidence to validate such an extravagant claim. However I can state with complete certainty I will not be contradicted, that at this precise moment in time, you are the happiest Human male on board _Enterprise_."

Trip exploded with laughter, throwing his head back as his eyes watered with mirth and T'Pol enjoyed the sensation of being hit by wave upon wave of his good humour via their link.

"Come here, oh logical one," Trip exclaimed, as he reached out to draw T'Pol into a close hug, rocking her from side to side, as he continued to giggle with sheer delight at the turn of events. He was engaged to be married to the woman of his dreams and it felt damned great.

"Can I take off my clothing now?" T'Pol enquired, her voice muffled because she was being held snug against his chest.

"Don't you want to have something to eat; I have a celebratory dinner waiting for us in the galley."

T'Pol pushed her head back so that she could gaze up at her bond mate, who meant so much to her. "I can think of a much more appropriate way to celebrate our engagement."

Trip leaned down to give T'Pol a lingering and passionate kiss. Then he drew back so that he could fully appreciate her, while letting his fingers stray to stroke the delicate points of her elegant ears. He enjoyed the obvious darkening of her skin and rapid increase in her breathing, which his attentions had caused, while T'Pol waited with impatient desire for his response.

Finally he let his lips hover over one green tinted ear and in a low voice, which sent delicious shivers running through T'Pol's body, he whispered, "That's another thing I love about you, you always have _really_ good ideas."

* * *

**Fin**


End file.
